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PHILOSOPHICAL TREATISE 



OK THE 



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Br T. COGAN, M. D. 



Format enim Natura prius nos intus ad om&ett 
Fortunarum habitum. — Hor: de Arte Poetic a. 



SECOND AMERICAN EDITION. 



NEW-YORK : 

PUBLISHED BY EVERT DUYCKINCK, G. LONG. 
AND WILEY AND HALSTID. 

J. «l J. Harper, Printers* 

1821. 



CMS 



PREFACE. 



Amidst the numerous Branches of Knowledge 
.vhich claim the attention of the human mind, no one 
can be more important than that which constitutes 
the subject of the following Treatise. Whatever 
most intimately concerns ourselves must be of the 
first moment. The principle of self-love, which is 
inherent in our nature, immediately suggests that 
no other species of knowledge can stand in compe- 
tition with it. Every thing is justly deemed inte- 
resting which has an immediate relation to ourselves ; 
and the degrees of its importance are measured by 
the degrees of its influence upon our Well-being, 
Therefore, to attend to the workings of our own 
minds ; to trace the power which external objects 
have over us ; — to discover the nature of our emo- 
tions and affections ; — to comprehend the reason of 
our being affected in a particular manner, must have 
a direct influence upon our pursuits, our characters; 
and our happiness. 

It may with justice be advanced, that the history 
of ourselves in this department, is of much greater 
utility than abstruser speculations concerning the 
metaphysical nature of the human soul, or even 
the most accurate knowledge of its intellectual 
powers. For it is according as the pasions and af- 
fections are excited ; and directed towards the ob- 



H PREFACE. 

jecfs investigated by these intellectual powers, that 
we become useful to ourselves or others ; that we 
rise into respectability or sink into contempt , that 
we diffuse or enjoy happiness, diffuse or suir er 
misery. 

An accurate Analysis of the passions and pff ec . 
tions, is to the Moralist, what the science of Anato- 
my is to the Surgeon. It constitutes the first prin- 
ciples of rational practice. It is in a moral view, the 
anatomy of the heart. It discovers why it beats, 
and hozc it beats ; indicates appearances in a sound 
and healthy state; detects diseases with their cause \ 
and it is infinitely more fortunate in the power it 
communicates of applying suitable remedies. 

Yet, notwithstanding the superior importance of 
this Science, it has not engaged the attention of phi- 
losophers, to an equal degree with the intellectual 
powers of man. Those who are conscious of the 
acuteness of their own intellects, have loved to em- 
ploy them upon subjects the most difficult and ab- 
struse. Their chief delight has been in the study of 
natures and essences ; and their ambition, to solve 
difficulties which have repeatedly occupied and em- 
barrassed the strongest minds. Patient attention to 
facts appears to them an employment best adapted 
to plain and common understandings : it is the pro- 
vince of Genius to soar above the common level, 
and penetrate the mists which surround the regions 
of intellect. 

When it is asserted that the passions of the mind 
have not employed the attention of the philosophic 
world, equally with the other branches which relate 
to Man, the assertion implies that they have not 
been totally neglected. Philosophers, in their study 
of human nature, have not passed them over in si- 
lence. They have treated them occasionally, but 
generally speaking, superficially ; chiefly as appen- 
dages to their other philosophical pursuits. This 
circumstance, it is acknowledged, has been produc- 
tive of a train of thought peculiar to each specula- 



PREFACE. V 

tor ; and thus has each been able to throw some 
light upon a subject, which it was not his sole or pri- 
mary object to investigate. 

Among the authors who have paid the most atten- 
tion to the subject, Professor Hutcheson, Dr. Watts, 
Mr. Grove, the Writer of the article " on the Pas- 
sions of Men," in the British Encyclopaedia, and 
Mr. Hume, may justly be placed in the first rank. 
The observations of Mr. Hutcheson chiefly respect 
the moral uses of the Passions, which it is not the 
professed object of the present Treatise to investi- 
gate. Objections to some of the principles advan- 
ced by Dr. Watts, and Mr. Grove, as well as other 
Writers of eminence, are stated in the Introductory 
Chapter, and will occasionally appear in different 
parts of this Work. It will therefore be sufficient 
to remark at present, that the very small degree of 
information obtained respecting many essential 
points ; the imperfection of every arrangement hi- 
therto made ; the almost universal disagreement 
among philosophers, in their ideas concerning the 
precise nature of a Passion, Emotion, and Affection, 
or in what respect they specifically differ from each 
other, &c. were the principal inducements to the 
Author of the following Treatise, to pay much great- 
er attention to the workings of the human mind, 
than he would have done, had their remarks been 
more satisfactory. In order to find his way through 
perplexing labyrinths, he was determined to extend 
the analytical method much farther than it has hi- 
therto been pursued ; from a full conviction that, al- 
though it is not in general the most popular and ac- 
ceptable mode, it is much the securest, and best 
adapted to procure a strength of evidence, in philo- 
sophical, moral, and religious subjects, which ap- 
proaches to the nature of demonstration. 

The Treatise now submitted to public candour, 

contains the history and the result of this process ; 

in which, however slow and tedious the steps, the 

Author has been frequently relieved, and sometimes 

1* 



VI PREFACE. 

amply rewarded, by discoveries which appeared to 
him equally new and important. If they should ap- 
pear so to others, he will feel himself completely 
recompensed for his labour. 

As he is not without apprehensions that the ana- 
lytical part will appear much too tedious and prolix, 
thus he fears that the philosophical observations and 
inquiries will appear much too superficial ; but he 
would remind the Reader that his sole object in the 
present treatise, is to give an epitome of general and 
influential principles, and not to pursue the develop- 
ment of any to the extent of which it is susceptible. 

The natural consequences of this immediate ap- 
plication to the genuine sources of knowledge, with- 
out any pre-conceived hypothesis, are, that, in some 
instances, the author has traced a perfect coinci- 
dence of opinion between his own and those of pre- 
ceding Writers on the Passions ; in many, he has 
corrected his own previous ideas ; in others, he thinks 
that he has not only discovered errors in preceding 
Writers, but also the causes of them. Wherever 
the subject has appeared peculiarly important, the 
discrepancy great, and the Authorities opposed, re- 
pectable, he has stated the subject, and his reasons 
in the adjoined Notes ; that the concatenation of 
ideas, so necessary in the analytical method, might 
not suffer interruption. 

Notwithstanding his utmost care, the Analyzer 
cannot flatter himself that nothing of importance has 
escaped his attention. Both the extent and intri- 
cacy of the subject will, it is hoped, furnish an apo- 
logy for many defects. Nor can he expect that of 
the numerous explanations and definitions proposed, 
they will all be equally acceptable and convincing. 
Some of them will probably be erroneous. But it 
may not be improper to remark, that the extraordi- 
nary versatility of language renders it extremely diffi- 
cult to seize the precise signification of terms, in 
every connexion ; and this will sometimes occasion 
a diversity of opinion, in cases where a criterion 



FREFACE. VII 

cannot always be found to which our judgments will 
uniformly submit. If the Reader should not agree 
with him in the precise signification of particular 
terms, the utmost care has been taken that the sense 
in which the Author has used them shall not be mis- 
understood : so that the principles he advances must 
either enforce conviction, or lay themselves fully 
open to confutation. 

The copiousness of the subject has principally 
confined the Work before us to a philosophical in- 
vestigation of the Passions. Yet in these abstruser 
investigations, many thoughts occasionally present 
themselves, properly belonging to the departments 
of Ethics, and requiring a larger amplification than 
would be consistent with the design of the present 
work. The Science of Ethics opens a field for con- 
templation still more extensive. Although it has so 
frequently engaged the attention of Moralists, it ap- 
pears to be inexhaustible ; nor ought we to despair 
of perpetual additions being added to our stock of 
knowledge, concerning the nature and importance 
of our duty. 

The degree of acceptance with which this Trea- 
tise has been received by the Philosophic World, 
encouraged the Author to prosecute his design, and 
he proceeded to consider the Passions and Affec- 
tions in a more practical, and perhaps still more in- 
teresting point of view. 

The apprehensions which naturally present them- 
selves, lest public expectation should not be grati- 
fied, by much novelty, on a subject which has been 
so frequently treated, are in some measure silenced 
by a conviction that his attempts will be received 
with an indulgence similar to that which he has al- 
ready experienced. 

Although attention has been paid in these subse- 
quent editions to several minuter corrections, yet 
the Author has been reluctant to make such altera- 
tions in them as might depreciate the value of the 
preceding, in the opinion of the Purchasers. The 



viii PREFACE. 

most considerable change consists in the divisions of 
the first two Chapters : the new Arrangements, and 
introductory Emotions being placed at the com- 
mencement of the second Chapter instead of termi- 
nating the Jirst : by which he thinks that a more lu- 
cid order is preserved. Several additions might 
have been made, but as these could, with equal pro- 
priety, be inserted in a future Volume, that mode 
has been preferred. 



©©wrasstm 



PART I, 

ANALYSIS OF THE PASSIONS. 

CHAPTER I. 

GENERAL VIEW OF THE SUBJECT. 

Page 
Sect. I. On Passions, Emotions, and Affections ; the spe- 
cific difference between them ... 13 

II. Plans of Arrangement examined . . .23 

III. Love and Hatred; their Nature ... 28 

IV. Desire and Aversion 35 

V. Objects of Love and Hatred .... 38 

CHAPTER II. 

CLASSIFICATION OF THE PASSIONS ACCORDING TO 
THEIR CHARACTERISTIC DIFFERENCES. 

Sect. I. Efficient causes of the Passions, &c. examined . 4 J 
II. Introductory Emotions 44 

III, Classifications of the Passions and Affections, as 

they respect the Selfish or the Social Principle o\\ 






x CONTENTS. 

Pag, 

CLASS I. 

PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS, WHICH OWE THEIR 

ORIGIN TO THE PRINCIPLE OF SELF-LOVE 5 2 

ORDER I. PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS, &c. EXCI- 
TED BY THE IDEA OF GOOD . • 53 

Joy, Gladness, &c ibid 

Contentment 55 

Satisfaction ibid 

Complacency 56 

Pride, he 50 

Desire 6] 

Hope . . . . . . . To 

ORDER II. PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS EXCITED 

BY THE IDEA OF EVIL . . . .72 

1. SORROW. . 73 

Grief, Melancholy, he 74 

Patience, Resignation, Humility ... 75 

2. FEAR 77 

Consternation, Terror, Dread, Despair, &c. &;c. 7 8 

3. ANGER 83 

Wrath, Resentment, Indignation, kc. kc. . 8'i 



CLASS II. 

PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS DERIVED FROM THE 

SOCIAL PRINCIPLE 90 

ORDER I. PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS, IN WHICH 

GOOD IS THE PREDOMINANT IDEA . 94 

I. Benevolent Desires and Dispositions . . . ibid 

1. Social Affections 95 

2. Sympathetic Affections . . . .97 

II. Affections derived from Good Opinion . 106 

Gratitude 107 

Admiration 10S 

Esteem, Respect . . . . . .112 

Veneration, he 113 

Fondness, &c 114 

ORDER II. PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS IN WHICH 

EVIL IS THE PREDOMINANT IDEA 11". 

I, Malevolent Desires and Dispositions . . .116 

Malignancy, Envy, Rancour, Cruelty. &c, . 117 



CONTENTS. 



Rage, Revenge, kc. Suspicion, Jealousy 
II. Displacency indicated by unfavourable opinions 
Horror, Indignation, Contempt, kc. . 



Page 
122 
125 

ibid 



PART II. 

i'HILOSOPHICAL OBSERVATIONS AND INQUIRIES. 

CHAPTER I. 

OBSERVATIONS RESPECTING THE LAWS OF EX- 
CITEMENT . , 131 

OBSERVATION I. Surprise the efficient Cause of Passion], ibid 
II. Affections alone permanent . . . 134 
HI. Relations of Passions and Affections to 

each other . . . . . . 137 

IV. Seat of the Passions .... 146 



CHPATER II. 



♦ VISES WHICH CREATE A DIVERSITY IN OUR 

AFFECTIONS, ENUMERATED . . 156 



1. 

2. 


Experience . 
Difference of Sex 


. 157 

15S 


3. 
4. 
5. 


Diversity of Temperament . 
Progress from Infancy to Age . 
National Customs 


. 162 

163 
. 165 


6. 


Force of Habit 


167 


7 


Self-Love . . 


. 168 


8. 


Education .... 


170 


9. 


Novelty , 


. 172 


10. 


Fashion 


173 


11. 


Love of Singularity 


. 1T5 


12. 
13. 


Popular Prejudices . 
Associated Affections . 


. 177 


14. 


Manner in which information is c 


on- 


15. 


veyed .... 
Imitative Tones and Representation; 


. 183 
. 164 


16. 


Rhetoric, Oratory, Eloquence . 


. 18.7 


17. 


The Drams ..... 


. 190 


18. 


Pre-disnosuig Causes 


. 191 



xii CONTENTS* 

CHAPTER III. 

INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS, 

Sect. I. Medical Influence 195 

II. Influence on Thought and Language . 209 

III. Influence on Character ...... 216 

IV. Influence on Happiness 222 



PART I. 

ANALYSIS OF THE PASSIONS, 



CHAPTER I. 

GENERAL VIEW OF THE SUBJECT. 
SECTION 1. 

>>■ PASSrO.NS, EMOTIONS, AND AFFECTIONS; THE SPECIFIC Djjfc 
FERENCE BETWEEN THEM. 

By Passions, emotions, and affections, we under- 
stand those stronger or weaker feelings, with their 
correspondent effects upon the system, which are ex- 
cited within us, by the perception or contemplation 
of certain qualities, which belong, or are supposed 
to belong to the objects of our attention ; and which, 
in some respect or other, appear interesting to us. 
In all cases, when the violence of the emotion is not 
too powerful for the animal economy, the feelings or 
sensations excited, are pleasant or unpleasant, ac- 
cording to the nature of the exciting cause, the 
ideas entertained of it, or the intenseness with which 
the mind is struck by it. These feelings differ in 
degrees of strength, according to the apparent im- 
portance of their cause ; according to certain pecu- 
liarities of temperament ; and also according to the 
manner in which the influential qualities are pre- 
rented to the mind. 

2 



14 PASSIONS, 

One or other of the three terms, Passion, Emo- 
tion, Affection, is always employed to express the 
sensible effects which objects, or ideas concerning 
them, have upon the mind ; but they are so fre- 
quently employed in a vague and indeterminate 
manner, that some difficulty attends the attempt to 
restore them to their precise and discriminating sig- 
nifications. 

The word, Passion, is thus rendered subject to 
several peculiarities, in the application of it. Some- 
times it is used in a generic sense, as expressive of 
every impression made upon the mind. When we 
speak of the passions in general, or of a treatise on 
the passions, we mean not to express the stronger 
impressions alone, the mildest affections are also in- 
cluded ; and if we denominate any one to be a per- 
son of strong passions, we mean that he is subject 
to violent transports of joy, or grief, or anger, &c* 
indiscriminately. In one instance the word is em- 
phatically employed to express suffering / as our Sa- 
viours passion ; in another it indicates anger exclu- 
sively ; thus when it is said of any one that he is in 
a passion, it is universally understood that he is 
very angry. The term passion, and its adverb pas- 
sionately, often express a very strong predilection 
for any pursuit, or object of taste ; a kind of enthu- 
siastic fondness for any thing. Thus we remark 
that a person has a passion for music, or that he is 
passionately fond of painting, &c. &c. In a sense 
similar to this, is the word also applied to every 
propensity, which operates strongly and permanent- 
ly upon the mind ; as the selfish passions, the gene- 
rous passions. Yet when we mean to particularize 
any of these, a different law of phraseology is ob- 
served. The word passion is appropriated by the 
evil propensities which are uniformly operative. 
Thus we do not say, the affection of pride, or of 
avarice, but the passion* The term affection, on the 
other hand, is appropriated by the virtuous propen- 
sities ; as the social, friendly, parental, filial, aflfee- 



PASSIONS. Ij 

tions, &x. though philosophically considered, the re- 
lation they bear to the state and workings of the 
mind, is perfectly analogous. 

Nor is this capricious latitude of expression con- 
fined to common language, where accuracy is not 
always to be expected; it is also obvious among phi- 
losophers themselves, so that scarcely two authors, 
who have written upon the subject of the passions, 
are agreed in their ideas of the terms they emplo} r . 
While some consider the emotions as highly turbu- 
lent, others assert that they are in their own nature 
quiescent :* — Some suppose a Passion to constitute 
the strength of an emotion ; others confine the idea 
of a passion to the desire which follows an emo- 
tion : — Others again represent the Passions as the 
calmest things in nature, deeming them to be the 
steady uniform principles of action, to which reason 
itself is always subservient.f Hence it becomes 
highly necessary to seek after some rules, which 
may render our ideas more consistent and uniform. 

In most of these applications, no attention has 
been paid to the primitive signification of the word 
Passion ; although this appears to be the safest 
method to recall us from those aberrations to which 
we are perpetually exposed. Few expressions 
wander so far from their original import, as to con- 
vey a sense which is totally foreign. The primary 
idea annexed to the word is that of passiveness, or 
being impulsively acted upon. In this sense the 
term properly signifies the sensible effect, the feel- 
ing to which the mind is become subjected, when 
an object of importance, suddenly and imperiously, 
demands its attention. If our imaginations be lively, 
our temperaments susceptible, the object interesting 
to us, we cannot avoid being affected, or suffering 
some powerful change in our dispositions, by its re- 
cent appearance, or by the suggestion of a some- 
thing we deem of importance. In all such cases we 
are obviously passive ; we are acted upon without 

* Lord Kaims. t Mr, Hume. 



16 PASSIONS. 

any previous determination of the will, or without 
any consent of our own. 

As several of our passions are of a disagreeable 
and painful nature, and as this passive or helpless 
state is so frequently connected with suffering, the 
transition from one signification to the other, is not 
only natural but almost inevitable ; and Passion will 
often be considered as synonymous with Suffering. 
In medical language, a person oppressed with dis- 
ease is called a Patient, an involuntary sufferer, and 
the calmness with which he submits is termed pa- 
tience ; that is, the mind yields with tranquillity to 
the pains and indispositions of the body. The word, 
Pathology, has also the same derivation : it is the 
history of the sufferings incident to the human frame. 
The Greeks expressed passions in general by n-aQoc., 
which signifies suffering ; and the Latin word Passio, 
from which we have adopted the term passion, has 
the same signification. The Stoics also gave the 
name of veiH to all extraordinary emotions of the 
soul, because they considered them as mental dis- 
eases, by which the soul, while under their influ- 
ence, was reduced to a state of suffering. But this 
secondary sense, as far as it conveys the idea of an 
unpleasant or painful sensation, is alone applicable 
to the effects produced by passions of a certain class: 
for others are in their own nature pleasing ; as joy 
and hope : whereas the primitive import of the word, 
that of passiveness, equally belongs to them all. 
The mind is equally passive in every effect sudden- 
ly and unexpectedly produced upon it, where its 
influence be of a pleasant, or unpleasant nature. 
(See Note A.) 

The term, Passion, therefore, may with strict pro- 
priety be used, and used exclusively, to represent 
the first feeling, the percussion as it were, of which 
the mind is conscious from some impulsive cause ; 
by which it is wholly acted upon, without any ef- 
forts of its own, either to solicit or escape the im- 
pression. 



EMOTIONS. IV 

Probably it is in allusion to this passive state of 
the mind, that the terms passion, and passionately, 
are employed to express the powerful attachment 
to particular objects mentioned above. They insi- 
nuate that the influence of these beloved objects, 
is irresistible ; and that the mind is completely un- 
der their dominion. 

The state of absolute passiveness, in consequence 
of any sudden percussion of mind, is of short dura- 
tion. The strong impression, or vivid sensation, im- 
mediately produces a reaction correspondent to its 
nature, either to appropriate and enjoy, or to avoid 
and repel the exciting cause. This reaction is very 
properly distinguished by the term Emotion, The 
sensible effect produced at the first instant, by the 
cause of the passion, greatly agitates the frame ; its 
influence is immediately communicated to the whole 
nervous system, and the commotions excited in that, 
indicate themselves by attitudes and motions of the 
body, and by particular expressions of countenance. 
These effects are such universal concomitants, that 
no very important change in the state of the mind 
can take place, without some visible change, of a 
correspondent nature in the animal economy. 

Emotions therefore, according to the genuine sig- 
nification of the word, are principally and primi- 
tively applicable to the sensible changes and visible 
effects, which particular passions produce upon the 
frame, in consequence of this reaction, or particu- 
lar agitation of mind. It is alone by these visible ef- 
fects that the subject is discovered to be under the 
influence of any passion ; and it is alone by the par- 
ticular changes produced, or kind of emotion, that 
we are enabled to judge of the nature of the passion. 
Thus, although the passion exists prior to the emo- 
tions, yet as these are its external signs, they must 
indicate its continued influence, as long as they con- 
tinue to agitate the system. In consequence of this 
immediate connexion, the words passions and emo- 
tions, are, in familiar discourse, where no philoso- 
2* 



IS EMOTIONS. 

phical precision is requisite, used synonymously: 
though, in reality, the latter are uniformly the effects 
of the former. Here, as in innumerable other in- 
stances, figurative modes of expression are adopted. 
The Synecdoche is perpetually employed, by which, 
cause and effect are confounded, or substituted the 
one for the other. Since emotions are faithful indi- 
cations of their correspondent passions, and strong 
passions are always productive of emotions, we 
should deem it a pedantic precision to select, at all 
limes, the appropriate word, when we mean simply 
to express the general effect. 

However, the term Emotion is sometimes expres- 
sive of lively sensations which do not produce visi- 
ble effects, in any degree proportionate to their 
feelings. In emotions the mind is not so complete- 
ly, or necessarily passive. In general it possesses 
some power over the external signs ; and in many 
cases, where the feelings would be too strong to re- 
main concealed, were they totally void of control, 
some other influential affection, either of fear, re- 
spect, humanity, &c. may serve to repress or mo- 
derate their effects, and confine them to imoard 
emotions. 

Again, the term is frequently employed to mark 
the first impression, which particular objects make 
upon susceptible minds, whether they remain con- 
cealed or not. Thus in the fine Arts, the charms 
of musical compositions which are novel to us ; — 
the first view of a gallery of paintings possessing 
distinguished merit ; — the surprise of a beautiful or 
elevated sentiment, or poetic description, will gene- 
rally make a more vivid impression upon us, than 
that which is felt in a continued, or renewed con- 
templation of the same subjects ; and yet these im- 
pressions may not be so forcible as to produce the 
transports accompanying emotions from other cau- 
ses. But the difference is simply in degree, not in 
kind. This species of enjoyment is peculiar to minds 
highly cultivated, whose repeated enjoyments of 



AFFECTIONS. 19 

similar nature have gradually moderated transports, 
and whose emotions have gradually subsided into 
gentler undulations, if I may thus express myself, in 
place of those agitations which the inexperienced 
would inevitably betray upon similar occasions. 

The third term, Affection^ has, in itself, a differ- 
ent signification from either of the above. It always 
represents a less violent, and generally a more dura- 
ble influence, which things have upon the mind. It 
is applicable to the manner in which we are affected 
by them for a continuance. It supposes a more de- 
liberate predilection and aversion, in consequence 
of the continued influence of some prevailing qua- 
lity. This distinguishes it from the transient im- 
pulse of Passion. • Nor is it intimately connected 
with any external signs; which distinguishes it from 
Emotions. The affections sometimes succeed to pas- 
sions and emotions, because these may have been 
excited by something which becomes permanently 
interesting ; or they may be gradually inspired, by 
a deliberate attention to the good or bad qualities 
of their objects. 

In this philosophic sense of the word, Affection 
is applicable to an unpleasant as well as a. pleasant 
state of the mind, when impressed by any object or 
quality. It may be produced by whatever torments 
qr corrodes the heart, as well as that which charms 
and delights it. Usage, however, chiefly applies 
the word to the kindly and beneficent affections. 
When we remark that a person has an affectionate 
heart, we mean to applaud his being under the in- 
fluence of the best affections, of a social and relative 
nature. 

With other writers on the Passions, we shall al- 
ways use the term in the philosophical sense ; and 
apply it equally to whatever produces more per- 
manent feelings in the mind, whether they be pleas- 
ing or painful, of a benevolent or malevolent cha- 
racter. 



20 AFFECTIONS. 

As in Passions and Emotions, thus in the Affec- 
tions, several gradations of influence are observable. 
Some affections indicate themselves so strongly, 
that they approach to emotions ; some may require 
a penetrating eye to discover them ; — some may be 
powerfully indulged with such self command, that 
they shall elude the most critical observation ; — and 
some have such an equal and uniform influence as 
to blend, as it were, with the temper, and almost lose 
the name of affection ; as generosity, fortitude, hu- 
mility, patience, resignation. 

When there is a propensity to indulge one parti- 
cular affection, or class of affections, more than an- 
other, arising from peculiarity of temperament, edu- 
cation, connexions, habits, &c. we consider this 
propensity as an indication of Temper or habitual 
Disposition. Thus we speak of a benevolent, 
grateful, cheerful, timorous, revengeful temper. 
These characters do not imply, that the subject is 
perpetually under the influence of the particular af- 
fection, but they mark his propensity towards it. 
The Affections therefore refer to the actual impres- 
sion made upon the mind by certain qualities, real 
or supposed ; and the Temper or Disposition is that 
particular cast of mind, which renders the percep- 
tion of certain qualities capable of making a more 
prompt, or a more durable impression upon one per- 
son than upon another. We deem that man to be 
irascible, who is disposed to be angry at trifles; and 
him we praise as humane, who is always disposed to 
commiserate sufferings. 

It is hoped that the above explanations of the 
terms, Passions, Emotions, and Affections, will ob- 
tain the approbation of philosophic Readers, since 
they were suggested to the Author by an attention 
to the workings of the human mind. If approved, 
they cannot appear unimportant, as they will serve 
to indicate both mutual relations and characteristic 
differences, in the impressions which surrounding 



PASSIONS, &C. 21 

objects, or ideas concerning them, make upon us ; 
and although an attention to these minute distinc- 
tions may not always he necessary in common lan- 
guage, and would sometimes be absurd, yet the want 
of precision has always been severely felt in philo- 
sophical investigations, and is a principal cause of 
the obscurities in which they are too frequently in- 
volved. It will be allowed by every attentive ob- 
server, that the process which we have character- 
ized by the above terms, does take place in the hu- 
man mind, when exposed to the sudden and power- 
ful influence of particularly interesting objects. 
Such objects are irresistibly forced upon his atten- 
tion, independent of a will or determination of his 
own ; they often produce great agitations hoth of 
mind and body; and when these agitations have 
subsided, the mind retains some degree of predilec- 
tion or aversion for them. As these distinctions are 
clearly and satisfactorily expressed, by the parti- 
cular terms we have given to each, this is- a full 
indication that they are the most appropriate. (Sec 
Note B.) 

The above observations are not confined to a 
simple process, which takes place from more sim- 
ple causes. After we have supposed a passion, in- 
dicated by an emotion, to be succeeded by some 
correspondent affection, we may still consider this 
affection as the parent of new passions, emotions, 
and affections, according to the variety of circum- 
stances connected with it. It may inspire fear, as 
when the object of our affection is in a perilous 
state; it may excite earnest desire, or sanguine 
hope. Some of these new passions and affections 
will arouse to action ; as when the strong sense of 
an injury excites to revenge : others chill and de- 
press the spirits, as sorrow and despair. Yet in 
the midst of all these diversities, the characteristic 
differences between Passions, Emotions, and Affec- 
tions, are equally obvious. 



22 APPETITES. 

Confining ourselves, therefore, to what we deem 
the genuine import of the words, in opposition to 
the irregularities of custom, we shall, as often as it 
may he necessary to observe distinctions, uniformly 
apply the term Passion, to the violent impression 
made upon our minds, by the perception of some- 
thing very striking and apparently interesting ; 
Emotion, to the external marks, or visible changes 
produced by the impetus of the passion upon the 
corporeal system ; and Affections, to the less vio- 
lent, more deliberate, and more permanent impres- 
sions by causes which appear sufficiently interest- 
ing. The range of affection, may be from those 
stronger feelings which are proximate to emotions, 
to the mildest sensations of pleasure or displeasure 
we can possibly perceive. 

Most writers on the Pathology of the mind, 
agree to distinguish between Appetites and Passions. 
The former they refer to corporeal wants, each of 
which creates its correspondent desire ; and the in- 
dulgence of this desire is termed Gratification. 
The latter they ascribe immediately to the mind. 
In this the Moderns differ from the Ancients. The 
word Appetitus, from which that of Appetite is deriv- 
ed, is applied by the Romans and Latinists, to de- 
sires in general, whether they primarily related to 
the body or not : and with obvious propriety ; for 
the primitive signification is, the seeking after what- 
ever may conduce either to Gratification or Happi- 
ness. Thus Cicero observes, " Motus animorum 
duplices sunt ; alteri, cogitationis ; alteri Appetitus. 
Cogitatio in vero exquirendo maxime versatur ; 
Appetitus impeilit ad agendum." By two powers 
of action being thus placed in contrast to each other, 
and the one applied to thought simply, it is obvious 
that the other comprehends every species of desire, 
whether of a mental or corporeal nature. Meta- 
physicians also, who have written in the Latin lan- 
guage, use the word Appetitus in the same latitude. 



ARRANGEMENTS EXAMINED. 23 

The modern distinction has the advantage of im- 
mediately pointing out a difference in the nature 
and character of the objects which interest us, ac- 
cording as they relate to the body or to the mind. 
But although we shall consider the appetites as con- 
fined to corporeal wants and cravings, we must still 
observe that they are as frequently the occasions of 
passions and emotions, as other objects which are 
peculiarly adapted to the mind. Eager hope, joy ; 
fear, anger, are daily manifested by the Infant, whose 
desires are wholly confined to animal wants ; and 
the keenest sensations of anger, jealousy, envy, &c. 
are intimately connected with the carnal Appetites 
of maturer age. Whatever is therefore beyond 
the mere instinctive appetite, becomes the province 
of the mind ; and the influence which various crav- 
ings of nature have upon its ideas and conceptions, 
give rise to mental affections and passions. The 
subject of the present discussion obviously relates 
to these, without requiring particular attention to 
the existing cause. 



SECTION II. 

PLANS OF ARRANGEMENT EXAMINED. 

So numerous and multifarious are the Passion?, 
Affections, and Emotions, in their connexions and 
ramifications, that it is difficult to propose a plan of 
Arrangement, which shall be, in every respect, un- 
exceptionable. By preferring one method, we may 
be deprived of some advantages attending another : 
and in all, it may be necessary to anticipate many 
things, which a rigid attention to order could not 
possibly permit. Some Writers on the Passions, 
have placed them in contrast to each other, as hope 
and fear, joy and sorrow : — Some have considered 
them as they are personal, relative, social : — Some 



24 ARRANGEMENTS EXAMINED. 

according to their influence at different periods of 
life : — Others according as they relate to past, pre- 
sent, or future time ; as sorrow principally refers to 
things past, joy and anger to present senses, hope 
and fear respect futurity. 

The Academicians advanced, that the principal 
passions were fear, hope, joy, and grief. Thus 
Virgil : 

Hinc metuunt, cupiunt, gaudentque, dolentqut. 

They included aversion and despair under the 
fourth ; and hope, fortitude, and anger, under desire. 
But not to observe that this arrangement is much 
too general in some respects, and defective in others ; 
—that the characters of hope and of anger are too 
opposite to each other, to be placed under the same 
head ; — that anger has no particular claim to be 
classed with desire, excepting when it excites a de- 
sire of revenge, which is not always the case ; — and 
that desire is so comprehensive a term as to em- 
brace numberless other affections ; not to insist upon 
these objections, it is manifest that the passions enu- 
merated cannot be primitive or cardinal, since some 
other affections or passions must be prior to them : 
We must love, or hate, before we can either desire- 
rejoice, or fear, or grieve. 

Dr. Hartley has arranged the Passions under five 
grateful, and five ungrateful ones. The grateful 
ones, are love, desire, hope, joy, and pleasing recollec- 
tion; the ungrateful are hatred, aversion, fear, grief, 
displeasing recollection. The objections to this or- 
der are, that all these cannot be considered as car- 
dinal passions. Love must precede desire, hope, 
and joy ; and hatred must precede fear. Nor do 
the distinctions themselves appear sufficiently accu- 
rate. Hope is certainly a species of desire ; pleas* 
ing recollection is a modification of love ; aversion 
is only a particular manner of testifying hatred ; and 
displeasing recollections are sometimes the renew* 
al of grief, sometimes of anger. 



ARRANGEMEMTS EXAMINED. L 2o 

Dr. Watts divides the passions into primitive and 
derivative. The primitive he subdivides into two 
ranks : 1. Admiration, love, and hatred ; 2. The 
diverse kinds of love and hatred, as esteem, con- 
tempt, benevolence, malevolence, complacency, 
displacency. The derivatives are desire, aversion, 
hope, fear, gratitude, anger, &c. 

But the title of Admiration to be considered as a 
primitive passion, does not appear to be so valid as 
that of the other two associated with it. Love and 
hatred are in universal exercise ; Admiration is 
merely occasional. The former indicate themselves 
from the instant we have any powers of discern- 
ment, or the smallest degree of experience, respect- 
ing the nature of objects ; the latter is the result of 
some degree of knowledge : it implies a spirit of 
inquiry ; and demands some portion of taste for par- 
ticular qualities, adapted to excite this emotion. 
Minds the most infantile, and uncultivated, will ma- 
nifest that they love and hate, long before they have, 
an opportunity of testifying their admiration. We 
might also observe, that a subdivision of the primi- 
tive passions into two ranks creates a suspicion, if 
it do not fully indicate, that they cannot all be 
equally primitive ; and the instances given under 
the second rank, may justly be considered as differ- 
ent modifications of the two grand principles, and 
not as primitives of a distinct character. It is far- 
ther obvious, that the doctor's plan makes no dis- 
tinction between the Passions and Affections, which 
the nature of the subject not only admits, but re- 
quires. 

Mr. Grove, adopting in part the arrangement of 
Dr. Watts, reduces all the passions to the three 
heads of admiration, love, and hatred ; which he 
styles accordingly, the primitive passions. The 
Others he denominates mixed passions ; which he 
describes to be those which have admiration blend- 
ed with them, and those compounded of the pas- 
sions that fall under love and hatred. As the above 
3 



lb ARRANGEMENTS EXAMINED. 

remarks are no less applicable to this arrangement, 
I shall only observe, that since Mr. Grove has defin- 
ed admiration to be " That sudden surprise at the 
novelty of an object, by which the soul is fastened 
down to the contemplation of it," there seems to 
be a peculiar impropriety in his placing it among the 
primitive passions : and this impropriety is increas- 
ed by another observation which he makes, viz. that 
" Admiration seems to be a more speculative pas- 
sion, as being employed chiefly about the novelty or 
grandeur of objects." For which reason he places 
the chief energy of this passion u in the brain," 
which he denominates " the grand instrument, or 
condition rather, of thought and contemplation." 
He adds, " in the other passions, which, respecting 
the good or evil of objects, proceed from a princi- 
ple of self-preservation, the spirits agitated are in 
the heart, the fountain of life, and fittest residence 
of those motions of the animal spirits, which are in- 
tended for the benefit and preservation of life."* 

These observations certainly increase the diffi- 
culty of admitting admiration among the primitive 
passions. It may also be justly doubted whether 
the author's ideas of the nature of admiration be 
always admissible. But this is not the place to 
discuss that point. 

The above comments upon the most material 
arrangements which have hitherto been followed, 
render some other classification desirable, which 
may be exempt from similar objections. Perhaps 
the securest method to obtain this end, will be 
previously to recollect, what is the first and leading 
principle of our nature ; and then inquire what 
are the necessary consequences of this principle, in 
beings formed as we are, placed in various situa- 
tions, and surrounded by an infinite variety of 
circumstances. By thus attending to the history of 
the human mind, and tracing the manner in which it 
is affected by various causes, a proper arrangement 

•■ See System of Moral Philosophy j Chap. VII. of the Passions. 



ARRANGEMENTS EXAMINED. 27 

may present itself. We shall, at least, avoid these 
mistakes and embarrassments, into which men of 
eminence have been betrayed, by pursuing other 
methods. 

It will be universally acknowledged, that it is es- 
sential to the nature of every sensitive and intelli- 
gent being, to be gratified with, or delight in Well- 
being, This is so evident a principle, that the con- 
trary cannot be supposed fora moment. Both reason 
and feeling unite to establish this axiom. We all 
feel the inestimable value of happiness, and we all 
know that to delight in misery, is a contradiction : it 
would be to annihilate misery. (See Note C.) 

This Well-being, or grateful state of existence, we 
unite to denominate an essential Good ; and its op- 
posite an essential Evil. Whatever promotes this 
state, we deem to be productive of good ; whatever 
is an impediment to it, or occasions a state of uneasy 
sensation, we consider as productive of evil. 

These ideas naturally lead us to esteem that as a 
Good also, which is productive of this desirable 
state ; and to characterize as an Evil, whatever is in- 
imical to it. Cause and effect are so intimately con- 
nected in our imagination, that we not only substi- 
tute the one for the other, by a figurative mode of 
speaking, but we o x uickly learn to consider that as 
a good in itself, which appears uniformly to be the 
means or instrument of good ; and to contemplate 
as an Evil, whatever we suspect to have a pernicious 
tendency. Under the impression of this sentiment, 
we indulge a predilection for the one, and feel an ab- 
horrence of the other. 

It is impossible for the attentive and considerate 
mind to view or contemplate objects so diametrically 
opposite as apparent Good, or apparent Evil, either 
with total indifference, or with the same kind of sen- 
sation. We inevitably look upon what we deem to 
be a Good, or conducive to happiness with a pleasant 
sensation. We deem it desirable, and it inspires the 
affection of Love. Whatever occasions, or threa- 



28 LOVE AND HATRED. 

tens a privation of happiness, or inflicts positive mis- 
ery, we view with displeasure, we consider it as 
injurious, or as an absolute evil, and it inspires the 
affection of Hatred : that is, we feel a strong at- 
tachment of the heart to whatever may contribute 
to Well-being, and we contemplate the reverse with 
feelings of displeasure, detestation, and abhorrence. 
Although it may be said, without impropriety, 
that we all love to be happy, and hate to be misera- 
ble ; yet this is such a self-evident truth, that it is 
very seldom uttered. The two expressions there- 
fore, Love and Hatred, are almost entirely applied 
to the cause, means, or instruments of well-being or 
wretchedness ; and we are habituated to love what- 
ever is instrumental to our existing in a desirable 
state, and to. hate its opposite* 



SECTION III. 

LOVE AND HATRED; THEIR NATURE, 

These two affections arise, immediately and in- 
evitably, from our perpetual solicitude to enjoy the 
existence we possess. They are coeval with our 
ideas of Good and Evil. They are experienced by 
every one, in every situation, and in every period 
of life. They are inspired by every object which 
possesses some peculiarity, or is apparently endow- 
ed with some quality, of a beneficial or a pernicious 
tendency ; that is, by whatever is able, according to 
our conceptions, to promote or impede enjoyment 
or happiness : from the smallest gratification up to 
the most exalted felicity 5 from the smallest discom- 
fiture, to the depth of misery. They are also the 
parents of every other passion and affection ; and 
the history of the human mind is no other than a de- 
velopement of their operations, in that diversity of 
situations and circumstances, in which it may be 
occasionally placed. These characters will ua- 



LOVE. 29 

doubtedly entitle them to the denomination of pri- 
mary or cardinal affections. As no others are in the 
same predicament, they cannot deserve the same 
appellations ; for they can only be considered as 
derived from these. 

We cannot therefore, commence our minute in- 
quiry into the passions, with greater probability of 
success, than by paying previous attention to these 
two affections. 

I. LOVE. 

Love may be considered either as a principle or 
as an Affection. As a principle, it may be defined 
an invariable preference of Good; an "universal 
and permanent attachment to Well-being or Happi-* 
ncss." In this point of view it has already been 
remarked, that the love of good, and solicitude to 
procure it, is not only the ruling principle of every 
sentient being, but it meets with the full approbation 
of every rational being. For nothing can excel that 
which is Good, and nothing can be valuable, but as 
it has a tendency to promote it. Hence when we 
speak of love abstractedly, we call it the Principle of 
love : for it is the principle by which the whole 
tenour of our conduct is directed ; and it retains that 
appellation, as long as we speak of it as a general 
principle of action. 

When this principle is directed towards any par- 
ticular object it becomes an Affection', that is, the 
mind becomes well disposed, or pleasingly affected 
towards that object ; and whenever this love is more 
violent in its effects upon the system, it is even 
deemed a Passion. 

The affection will be diversified, and acquire va- 
rious characters, according to the nature of the ob- 
ject, or the peculiar qualities it may seem to possess ; 
and also according to its various relations. This 
affection may relate to ourselves ; to those with 
whom we are connected, by the closest bonds 
3* 



30 LOVE. 

of nature or intimacy ; to the whole of our species ; 
to those beings of inferior order in the creation, 
which are rendered capable of possessing any por- 
tion of enjoyment ; and even to things inanimate. 

When the affection of Love immediately relates 
to ourselves personally, it is called Self-love ; and it 
marks the peculiar concern and solicitude we enter- 
tain for our own interest, prosperity, or enjoyment. 
The principle of self love generally operates with 
the greatest force upon the mind ; for every circum- 
stance which affects our own happiness, makes the 
most vivid impressions. This is naturally the source 
of many abuses which have brought the term itself 
into disrepute. But Self-affection, when it does not 
interfere with the claims of others, is not only an 
innocent affection, but it manifests the wisdom and 
benevolence of the great Source of good. By 
rendering every Being active in the pursuit of his 
own happiness, the greatest quantum of general good 
is most effectually secured. As the largest commu- 
nities consist of Individuals, were each individual 
to seek his own welfare, without prejudice to his 
neighbour, the individual stock of each would ren- 
der happiness universal* (See Note D.) 

When our love or desire of Good goes forth to 
others, it is termed Good will, or Benevolence. This 
usually operates with various degrees of force, ac- 
cording to our various connexions and degrees of 
intimacy. It may possibly render the interest and 
happiness of those with whom we are more imme- 
diately connected, by the bonds of nature or friend- 
ship, equally dear to us as our own. It has, in some 
instances, been known to exert a more powerful in- 
fluence. Of this truth, the love of Parents towards 
their own offspring frequently presents us with 
striking instances. Admiration of personal excel- 
lencies, habits of intimacy, gratitude for benefits re- 
ceived, &c. may also increase our attachment to in- 
dividuals, until it rival the natural influence of self* 
love. 



LOVE. 31 

All these powerful ties are usually characterized 
by the term Affection ; as the conjugal, parental, 
filial affections ; and those who possess these at- 
tachments, in an exemplary degree, are termed 
affectionate parents, children, relatives, friends. 

When love extends to the whole human race, it 
is termed Philanthropy; a principle which com- 
prehends the whole circle of social and moral vir- 
tues. Considering every man as his neighbour, and 
loving his neighbour as truly and invariably as he 
loves himself, the Philanthropist cannot be unjust 
or ungenerous. 

In its utmost extent, the love of Benevolence em- 
braces all beings capable of enjoying any portion of 
good ; and thus it becomes universal Benevolence : 
which manifests itself by being pleased with the 
share of good every creature enjoys ; — in a dispo- 
sition to increase it ;— - in feeling an uneasiness at 
their sufferings ; — and in the abhorrence of cruelty, 
under every disguise, or pretext. 

When these dispositions are acting powerfully, 
towards every being capable of enjoyment, they are 
called the benevolent affections; and as these be- 
come, in those who indulge them, operative rules 
of conduct, or principles of action, we speak of the 
benevolent principle. 

It has been remarked, that predilection for Good, 
as the e/u?, enstamps a value upon the means pro- 
ductive of this end. This creates an affection for 
various qualities and propensities, which we pro- 
nounce to be Good, when they possess the power, 
or indicate the disposition to promote happiness or 
enjoyment. If these be eminently good qualities, 
we call them Excellencies ; and if they be connected 
with the characters and conduct of moral agents, 
they are moral excellencies. 

From the habitual pleasure which the contem- 
plation of Excellence inspires, without our advert- 
ing perpetually to the benefits which may accrue 
from it, we may be induced to imagine that we love 



32 HATRED. 

things deemed excellent, for their own sakes ab- 
stracted from their power of becoming useful. But 
this is impossible. Every excellence contains a 
capability to possess or to communicate good. No- 
thing which deserves the name, can be in its own 
nature inert. An useless excellence is a contradic- 
tion. 

The propensity to love what is productive of 
good, extends itself much farther than to the powers 
and properties of moral agents. We naturally ac- 
quire an attachment to every object, animate or in- 
animate, which has been the habitual instrument of 
good to us, or is capable of contributing to our gra- 
tification or advantage. Their latent powers first 
induce us to value them as treasures in reserve ; 
our opinion of their capacity to become servicea- 
ble, inclines us to place our affections upon them ; 
and in process of time, they will, by the association 
of ideas, excite pleasing emotions, although their 
powers of utility are not always in our recollection* 
(See Note E.) 

II. HATRED. 

Hatred expresses the manner in which we are 
affected, by our perception of whatever we suppose 
to be an Evil. It is not confined to absolute suffer- 
ing ; it marks also our abhorrence of whatever ex- 
poses to the danger of absolute suffering, or the di- 
minution of that portion of good we enjoy, or wish 
to possess. 

Hatred of misery and its causes, is a natural and 
necessary consequence of our solicitude to possess 
Good ; and the affection of Hatred is as naturally 
inspired by that state, conduct, disposition, which is 
productive of, or threatens to induce pernicious or 
disagreeable consequences, as the affection of Love 
is attached to their contraries. Nor is our hatred 
at all times confined to that particular quality, or pe- 
culiarity of circumstance, which is immediately un- 



HATRED. 3$ 

friendly to us. It is apt to raise unpleasant ideas, 
and to create prejudices against many things, which 
in themselves are far from heing the objects of ha- 
tred, and which may be highly advantageous, merely 
because they have been displeasing or injurious to 
us in particular instances. As our predilection for 
whatever proves acceptable, will often prevent our 
discerning its pernicious qualities, thus do we fre- 
quently extend our hatred far beyond the just limits, 
until we betray our ignorance, or manifest that we 
are under the dominion of invincible prejudice. 

Personal Hatred, or Malevolence towards an in- 
dividual, commences with some circumstance, qua- 
lity, or disposition which is displeasing to us ; or 
with some species of injury committed or intended. 
It has these for its professed objects. But here also 
a quick and powerful transition is instantaneously 
made, in our imaginations, from an incidental blem- 
ish, to the whole of character ; — from a single act, 
we are prone to form unfavourable sentiments of 
general conduct ; — and the lively sense of an injury 
annihilates too frequently every species of merit in 
the offender. This is obviously the source of ha- 
treds, long and inveterate. 

But notwithstanding these excesses and exagge- f 
rations of Hatred and Malevolence, yet they can- 
not possibly be so extensive in their operations as 
the principle of Love. The affection of Hatred 
has particular and partial evils alone for its objects, 
while the principle of Love may embrace the uni- 
verse. As nutritious aliments are infinitely more 
numerous than the substances which are of a poison- 
ous quality, thus does the number of those things 
which are pleasing, beneficial, important in their 
nature, infinitely exceed those which are either in 
themselves comfortless, or detrimental, or calcula- 
ted to foster a malevolent disposition. The true 
object of Hatred is alone some particular and par- 
tial evil, which we experience or dread; — some in- 
cidental interruption to the usual tenour of our feel- 



34 HATRED. 

ings ; — or some pernicious quality which may 
threaten this interruption. The objects of our 
fears, our anger, or our grief, are considered in the 
light of robberies, or painful privations, and not as 
permanent causes of the malevolent affections. 
They are not looked upon as streams perpetually 
flowing from one inexhaustible source, but as inter- 
ruptions to an usual or desirable state, by adventi- 
tious causes. Happiness appears to be our birth- 
right, of which all the painful sensations raised by 
hatred, are the professed guardians. The wish for 
happiness is perpetual and unlimited, while our evil 
affections expire with the causes which gave them 
existence. Nor can malevolence extend itself to 
every individual in the creation, in a manner simi- 
lar to the contrary virtue. That happy cultivation 
of our nature, which inspires a benevolence to- 
ward all animated beings, cannot possibly have a 
perfect contrast, or complete parallel, in the most 
uncultivated and brutalized. This would constitute 
a ferocity of character which can scarcely be found 
in the most insane. When tyrants, cruel and fe- 
rocious, are diffusing misery, in the wantonness of 
their power, their conduct does not proceed from 
an abstract principle of universal hatred ; — but from 
some low policy of self-defence ; — from an infernal 
spirit of revenge for supposed injuries ; — from inor- 
dinate self-love, which creates an insensibility to hu- 
man woes ; — from pride, vanity, and excessive igno- 
rance, which induce men to imagine that they shall 
be revered as deities, because they imitate the de- 
structive thunder of heaven ; and to dream that 
their favourite idol Power, can only be made known 
and established, by deeds which excite consterna- 
tion and horror! 

Indeed the affection of Hatred is of so unpleasant 
a nature, that the Being who could hate every 
thing, would be his own tormentor. The sole 
pleasure of which malevolence is capable, proceeds 
from the gratification of revenge ; which can only 



DESIRE AND AVERSION, 



be directed against particular objects. Nor is it 
merely bounded ; it is irritating, unsatisfactory, and 
purchased by the sacrifice of all the enjoyments 
which flow from the contrary disposition. 



SECTION IV. 

DESIRE AND AVERSION. 

With the affections of Love and Hatred, are in- 
timately connected the affections of Desire and 
Aversion. That is, we constantly desire, and are 
solicitous to possess or accomplish, whatever is 
pleasing or beneficial ; and we are averse from, and 
endeavour to shun, whatever is displeasing, or 
threatens to be pernicious. These two affections 
are therefore the necessary consequences of the 
preceding. They are accompanied with a certain 
eagerness of mind, either to obtain or escape, which 
is not so essential to the former. Love and Hatred 
may be inspired by a calmer contemplation of ex- 
cellence or demerit, or any of the causes of happi- 
ness or misery, without our having an immediate 
interest in them ; — as when we reflect upon benefi- 
cial discoveries or destructive errors. The princi- 
ple of Love may approve of worthy conduct or re- 
spectable characters, from which we can expect no 
benefit to ourselves ; and that of hatred may de- 
spise viilanies by which we cannot be injured. 
Desire and Aversion refer to particular objects, 
which have some relation to ourselves ; and they 
are indicated by some effort of mind, either to pos- 
sess the promised good, or to repel the impending 
evil. Desire and Aversion are to be considered 
therefore as manifestations of love and hatred ; and 
ihe earnest application of these principles, in each 
particular instance of their excitement. 

As Love and Hatred may be resolved into that 



36 DESIRE AND AVERSION* 

one principle, the love of Well-being, thus may the 
affections of Desire and Aversion be resolved into 
Desire ; although the use of both terms is, in com- 
mon language, necessary, in order to distinguislvthe 
objects of our pursuit, from those we wish to shun. 
Strictly speaking, Aversion is no other than a par- 
ticular modification of Desire ; a desire of being 
liberated from whatever appears injurious to well- 
being. The objects in our possession, productive 
of this good, we desire to retain. We are con- 
scious of this desire every time we appreciate the 
worth of the object, and it is necessarily excited 
when we are under the apprehensions of privation. 
If the Good, or the means of good, be not in our 
possession, we desire to obtain them : if a privation 
be unjustly attempted by any one, and the passion 
of anger be excited, the desire of preserving or re- 
covering the object, is connected with a desire to 
chastise the aggressor : if it be in danger from any 
other cause, the fear of loss is excited by the desire 
of securing, and if we be actually deprived, the 
hopeless desire of regaining, is an essential ingre- 
dient in our grief for the loss. 

But although, in this philosophical sense, Desire 
may seem to be equally extensive with the affection 
of Love, yet it is necessarily more confined in its 
application. Love relates to all things which ap- 
pear good and beneficial in themselves, or to beings 
capable of receiving good. It comprehends the 
things enjoined, and the state of pleasing existence, 
in which those beings are actually placed, as well 
as the desirableness of such a state, and all the 
means and instruments of good. Desire mostly 
refers to the state in which we are not. It solicits 
some favourable change, and exerts itself to obtain 
it. Hatred also is universally applicable to what- 
ever appears pernicious or displeasing in itself: 
Aversion more immediately concerns whatever 
appears pernicious or displeasing to us* These 
Affections may be considered as the satellites of 



DESIRE AND AVERSION. 37 

Love and Hatred, perpetually accompanying them, 
and prompt to execute their orders. Wherever love 
or hatred direct their immediate attention, desire 
&nd aversion seek to appropriate or repel. 

Thus it appears that the love of good and hatred 
of evil ; the desire of possessing good and escaping 
evil ; are the leading principles of our nature. The 
love of good commences with our existence, and 
the desire of good is coeval with our powers of 
discernment. Neither of them will leave us, until 
we cease to exist, or lose the consciousness of our 
own sensations and perceptions. Whatever diver- 
sity there may be in our situations, however various 
and opposite the objects engaging our attention, 
however versatile our humours, these remain the im- 
mutable principles of action. They pervade the 
animal system, as the electric fluid pervades the 
material ; and though, like that, they may sometimes 
be latent, yet, like that, they may be instantaneously 
roused into vivid action, and manifest both their 
existence and their power by the effects they pro- 
duce. 

Human nature possesses various sensitive and 
mental powers, to each of which an infinite diver- 
sity of objects is adopted : and as the gratification 
of each communicates pleasure, we are prone to 
estimate every thing as a Good, which is capable 
of contributing to these gratifications ; and every 
thing as an Evil which opposes them. However, a 
contrariety or opposition frequently takes place 
between the higher and inferior pursuits of our 
nature ; in consequence of which the interests or 
gratifications of the one, must yield to those of the 
other. As sensual objects, and things which ad- 
minister to our immediate desires, are apt to make 
the strongest impressions and captivate our atten- 
tion, in preference to things less sensual and more 
remote, though of superior importance, thus do we 
frequently deem that to be a Good, which is virtuaJ- 

4 



38 OBJECTS OF 

ly an Evil. We may also deem that to be an Evil 
which is virtually a Good, as being productive of 
extensive, exalted, or permanent advantage. But 
notwithstanding these facts, we still pursue every 
thing as an apparent Good ; and we avoid every 
thing under the idea of its being an Evil, of great- 
er or less magnitude. Our appetites, our particu- 
lar propensities, our imaginations, our passions may 
spread deceitful charms over some objects; and 
our want of attention, our ignorance, our impa- 
tience of present restraints and inconveniences, or 
the perverseness of our affections, may render ob- 
jects inimical in their appearance, which are bene- 
ficial in their tendency : yet our Desires are alone 
excited by the idea of some enjoyment or advan- 
tage ; and things are rendered objects of our aver- 
sion alone because they are disagreeable to our 
feelings, or threaten to endanger, some way or 
other, our Well-being. (See note F.) 



SECTION V. 

OBJECTS OF LOVE AND HATRED; THEIR CHARAC- 
TERISTICS. 

Should it be asked, "in what do this Good and 
Evil consist ?" it would be difficult to give a satis- 
factory answer. To say that they consist in a certain 
consciousness of well-being, or of a comfortless ex- 
istence, would be little more than to assert that hap- 
piness consists in being happy, and misery in being 
miserable. The following observations however, 
will discover to us what we expect in the means of 
good, and what we deem to be the causes of unhap- 
piness ; and they will indicate where these are prin- 
cipally to be found. 

Creatures formed like ourselves, with different 
organs of sense, with various powers of mind ac- 
companied with quick perceptions and high sensi- 



, 10VE AND HATRED. 39 

bility ; creatures endowed with great diversities of 
dispositions, tastes, propensities, must be variously 
affected by every thing around them. We are, as 
it were, plunged into the universe " tremblingly 
alive all o'er," and we are rendered capable of 
receiving impressions, pleasant or unpleasant, from 
every object which addresses our senses, From every 
thing we perceive, and from every thing of which 
we can form an idea. Nothing in this vast uni- 
verse can, at all seasons, be totally indifferent to 
every person in it; nothing is so inert as to be in- 
capable of exerting some influence, in one connex- 
ion or other, and of calling forth a correspondent 
passion or affection. 

These effects are produced by our Perception or 
Supposition of certain powers, properties, or quali- 
ties, in the different objects, by which ideas of an 
agreeable or disagreeable nature, are excited within 
us. The diverse influences of these are to be 
ascribed to an apparent Aptitude or Correspon- 
dence, in some objects, with the frame and consti- 
tution of our nature, and to an inaptitude or want 
of correspondence in others ; to a certain coinci- 
dence between properties and relations in objects 
and circumstances, with the appetites, powers, pro- 
pensities of our nature, the gratification of which 
seems to promote our well-beings or to the want 
of this coincidence, or the exertion of a contrary 
power which constitutes our misery. 

The diversity of attributes, seated in different ob- 
jects, and the no less diversity in our situations, and 
in circumstances surrounding us, render it difficult 
to make choice of such terms as may be universally 
appropriate. It may therefore be necessary to ob- 
serve, that by attribute, property, quality, &c. is 
meant to express that peculiarity, whatever it may 
be, which exerts an influence upon us ; and these 
terms are used to indicate the distinguishing charac- 
teristics of various objects, as they are connected 
with some singularity in state, circumstance, or con- 



40 OBJECTS OP LOVE AND HATRED* 

duct, without the real or supposed existence of 
which, the passions and affections could not have 
been excited. (See Note G.) 

The subjects possessing this real or apparent apti- 
tude and coincidence, or inaptitude, relate to our 
animal wants, to the various powers and employ- 
ments of our minds ; to our state and connexions 
as social beings ; and also to the opinions entertain- 
ed respecting our relation to a superior Being, or to 
a future state of existence. 

The various objects soliciting our attention under 
these heads ; the degrees of their suitability, excel- 
lence, importance, or the contrary : — our ideas and 
mistakes concerning them ; — the facility, or diffi- 
culty, with which some things are pursued, obtained, 
preserved, lost, dismissed ; — the uncertainty, dan- 
gers, contrarieties to which we are constantly ex- 
posed, respecting whatever may appear interesting, 
are perpetually engaging our affections, or exciting 
our passions, during the whole of our passage 
through life, from the cradle to the grave ! 

Thus is that love of Well-being which is one and 
simple in its principle, most wonderfully diversified 
in its operations ! Every object, every circumstance, 
every idea which can enter the mind, makes some 
impression upon us, of a pleasant or unpleasant na- 
ture ; it contributes a something towards, or deducts 
from, the Good we seek. They all contain powers 
and properties, by which we are attracted towards 
the grand desideratum, Happiness, or are repelled 
to various distances from it ! 



EFFICIENT CAUSES, &C. 41 



CHAPTER H. 



CLASSIFICATION OF THE PASSIONS ACCORDING TO 
THEIR CHARACTERISTIC DIFFERENCES. 

SECTION I. 



THE EFFICIENT CAUSES OF THE PASSIONS, EMOTIONS AND 
AFFECTIONS EXAMINED. 



The Affections and Passions, to which the cir- 
cumstances stated in the preceding chapter, give 
rise, are not only extremely numerous, but like 
their exciting causes, they are so connected and in- 
termixed, that to arrange them in a lucid order, 
would be almost as impracticable as to form a regu- 
lar path through the Hercynian Wood. Very few 
of the passions or affections are perfectly simple ; 
some are extremely complex. Their complexities 
are so various, that it is almost impossible to restore 
each to its appropriate place ; and the most opposite 
affections are so intermixed, that it is very difficult 
to assign to each its due share of influence. 

In this labyrinth, an attention to the following 
facts may perhaps furnish us with something of a 
clue. 

Some of our passions and affections are inspired 
by circumstances which more immediately relate 
to ourselves, and to our own personal interests ; 
that is, they belong to the principle of Self-love : 
Some of them belong to the social principle, and 
refer to our connexions with our own species, or to 
all animated natures. 

In some of our Passions and Affections, the ideas 
q^ good are obviously predominant, in others the 
ideas of evil. 

The Passions and Affections, which relate to Self- 
love, and are excited by the idea of a Good, mav 
4* 



42 EFFICIENT CAUSES OF 

either refer to the good which is actually in ourpos* 
session, and communicate various degrees of enjoy- 
ment, from simple gratification to ecstacies ; or 

The good we love may not be in our possession ; 
but it may appear attainable, and become the object 
of our Desire ; or 

Though it be not in our possession, circumstances 
may appear highly favourable to our attaining it, 
and it may thus inspire Hope* 

The state in which Evil is the predominant idea, 
referring to ourselves, may relate ; 

To the loss of that good which we possessed, or 
to disappointments respecting the good we desired, 
and hoped to obtain ; inspiring Sorrow with its vari- 
ous modifications ; or 

We may be apprehensive concerning the loss of 
what we possess ; concerning the approach of some 
positive evil ; or concerning the accomplishment of 
our desires, which introduces the family of Fear. 

The cause of both sorrow and fear may be some 
Agent, whose designed conduct, or even whose in- 
advertency, may threaten or produce injuries, and 
thus excite Anger, in various degrees. 

The causes and excitements of our passions and 
affections respecting others, may also be arranged 
under the predominancy of Good, or Evil in our 
ideas. 

Under the former head may Benevolence be 
placed, which will indicate itself either by good 
Wishes, or good Opinions ; each productive of a large 
diversity of affections and passions, according to 
contingent circumstances. 

The predominance of Evil in our ideas will show 
itself in actual Malevolence of disposition concern- 
ing another ; or in a Displacency and disapproba- 
tion of their conduct. 

The above sketch seems to indicate a plan of in-r 
vestigation which, upon the whole, is the least con- 
fused and embarrassing. It is founded upon the re- 
marks which have been made, concerning the grand 



PASSIONS, EXAMINED. 43 

propensity of human beings to seek felicity ; upon 
the ideas of Good and Evil, either relating to 
themselves or others ; and it seems to comprehend 
most of those contingent circumstances which sur- 
round us. 

That the idea of Good is most prevalent in the 
diverse kinds of gratification ; in the pursuit of vari- 
ous objects cf desire ; in the indulgence of hope : 
and in benevolent dispositions, no one will dispute : 
and that the idea of Evil, is prevalent in malevolence 
and displacency , is no less evident. It will also be 
obvious, upon a moment's consideration, that as the 
love of good may produce Hatred to what is inimi- 
cal to it, thus in the affections and passions corres- 
pondent with this principle, the primary and influ- 
ential idea is that of suffering. In sorrow, when we 
grieve for the loss of what we love, it is the privation 
which immediately presents itself to the mind, and 
the hatred of this privation is the efficient cause of 
sorrow. In fear the apprehension of impending evil 
takes the lead in our minds, though this evil may 
virtually consist in being deprived of some good. 
In anger, the evil intended or perpetrated, is the 
direct incitement to wrath, and we expatiate, with 
so much eagerness, upon all the circumstances of 
aggravation, that we cannot allow ourselves, at the 
first instant, to dwell upon the attributes or qualities 
of the good thus endangered or destroyed. These 
instances manifest that the perception of an Evil 
from privation, is stronger in every instance, than 
our estimation of the intrinsic value of that which 
occasions the painful emotion. 

But although these observations may suffice to 
justify the Order proposed, yet it is acknowledged 
that they are not comprehensive enough to embrace 
every thing relative to the passions. There is a 
class of emotions, in which distinct ideas of good or 
evil are not present to the mind, and which in fact 
may, with equal propriety, enlist themselves under 
each division. They are vivid impressions, produc- 



44 INTRODUCTORY 

tive of effects which, strictly speaking, belong 
neither to the passions nor affections 5 and yet their 
presence frequently constitutes the difference be- 
tween an affection and a passion. 

This enigma will be best explained, by our atten- 
tion to the manner in which our ideas of those influ- 
ential and operative qualities, exciting passions and 
inspiring affections, are obtained. • 



SECTION II. 

INTRODUCTORY EMOTIONS. 

When the attention is steadfastly fixed upon any 
quality or number of qualities, apparent in an ob- 
ject, whether they be good or bad, some impression 
is made, or certain sensations are produced. These 
may dispose the mind to dwell yet longer upon the 
subject; and the qualities they exhibit may be at- 
tentively contemplated, with all their relations and 
connexions. Their former and their present influ- 
ence, future consequences, &c. may thus be placed 
before us. Numberless correspondent ideas will 
present themselves, each producing its particular ef- 
fect, until strong affections, either of love or hatred, 
desire or aversion, will be excited ; and these may 
gradually arise to the most violent passions and emo- 
tions. In this manner have persons been known to 
7vork themselves up into ecstacies, or into phrensies : 
and the mind has been so completely occupied by 
its subject, that it has totally lost the power of self- 
command ; nothing foreign being able to gain ad- 
mission, and divide the attention. 

But on the other hand, whatever presents itself in 
a sudden and unexpected manner, has, in most cases, a 
much greater effect upon us, than subjects of very 
superior importance, for which we have been gradu- 
ally prepared. The more sudden, that is, the great- 
er the improbability of its appearing at that instant ; 



EMOTIONS. 45 

and the more unexpected, that is, the greater distance 
the train of thought was from the expectancy, the 
more violent will be the first percussion ; and this 
circumstance will give peculiar energy to the exci- 
ting cause, whatever its peculiar complexion may be. 
A strong impulse is given, by the very mode of its 
appearance, previous to our being able to acquire a 
distinct knowledge of its nature. This impulse is 
the emotion, we term Surprise, 

Another circumstance which frequently attends 
the cause of any specific emotion, and produces its 
own characteristic effects, in subjects of seeming im- 
portance, is that of Intricacy ; in which the mind is 
thrown into an embarrassed state concerning the par- 
ticular object, or something material relative to it. 
This embarrassment also gives an additional impe- 
tus to the characteristic passion, whether it be of a 
pleasing or a displeasing nature, and is distinguished 
by the name of Wonder. 

A third adventitious effect is produced by an in- 
stantaneous perception of the extreme magnitude 
or extent, of the subject which calls forth any of the 
Passions and Affections. It seems to possess some* 
thing immeasurable, unfathomable, beyond the ut- 
most stretch of comprehension. This we call Aston* 
ishment. 

It now appears that some of our emotions may be 
excited, before the good or evil, seated in the ex- 
citing cause, can have arrested the attention. Yet 
even in these cases, Good or Evil is not excluded. 
For these emotions are most intimately connected 
with the idea of something peculiarly important ; 
but we can deem nothing important unless it pos- 
sess a power of producing Good or Evil. Their 
peculiar strength is even occasioned by the vivid 
idea of Importance, while the emotions themselves 
manifest our ignorance of its specific nature. 

These emotions, therefore, are excited by the 
confused idea of something peculiarly interesting 
in the cause : and they are manifestly intended to 



46 INTRODUCTORY 

awaken and direct the attention to this cause, that 
its nature and character may be ascertained. Sur- 
prise, like a watchful centinel, is equally alarmed 
at a sudden approach, whether it be of a friend or 
an enemy. Wonder is excited by a curiosity which 
induces us to investigate the character of the intru- 
der, with peculiar keenness : and although Aston- 
ishment is almost overwhelmed with the subject, 
yet it is irresistibly attracted towards it, with a 
force proportioned to its magnitude. At the instant 
in which we feel our imbecility the most, we are 
the most eager to investigate those qualities which 
we acknowledge to exceed our comprehension I 

The above characters ascribed to them, plainly 
indicate that these emotions cannot be considered, 
strictly speaking, either as passions or Affections ; 
which are always inspired by the idea or perception 
of some specific Good or Evil, but merely as intro- 
ductory to these : and it is very singular, that com- 
mon language, without the suspicion of its being 
founded on philosophical investigation, uniformly 
characterises them by the term Emotions, We 
never speak either of the Passion or Affection of 
surprise, or of wonder, or of astonishment ; but 
consent with one voice to denominate them Emo- 
tions. 

It is also agreed that they are very distinct from 
the permanent calmness of an affection, and that 
they are common to the most opposite passions. 

The most violent passions, of every kind, are 
well known to proceed more frequently from the 
impulse of the moment, than from deliberate 
thought* They are equally excited also, by sub- 
jects of a pleasing or displeasing nature ; they are 
the precursors of many passions, and are able to 
communicate an energy to all. 

Thus we perceive that the passions, — using this 
term in a generic sense, may proceed both from our 
Ignorance, and from our real or supposed knozv* 
Udge of the nature and qualities of objects. As the 



• EMOTIONS. 47 

excess of cold operates upon the corporeal system, 
with a stimulating power like the excess of heat ; 
thus the opposites of expectancy, of knowledge, of 
comprehension, become powerful stimulants to the 
awakened mind, and communicate a painful ener- 
gy, which is peculiarly instrumental in removing 
their cause. This effect is manifestly produced by 
the power of the Imagination which immediately 
creates alarms, forms numberless conjectures, and 
expands itself to the utmost, that it may equal if 
possible the vastness of the object. 

Surprise, Astonishment, JVonder, being excited 
by something novel, something embarrassing, or 
something vast and incomprehensible in the objects, 
without any reference to its peculiar nature, and 
exerting their influence, indiscriminately, in pas- 
sions of the most opposite characters, they may, 
with strict propriety, be contemplated as introduc- 
tory to those subjects, which, upon a minute investi- 
gation, seem calculated to exert their own specific 
influence. We shall therefore term them Introduc- 
tory Emotions. 

When the nature of the exciting cause is more ac- 
curately ascertained, it will be found to respect 
either the Selfish or the Social Principle. Hence 
arise two important distinctions, forming two dif- 
ferent Classes. 

In each Class the predominant idea of a Good, 
and the predominant idea of an Evil, will constitute 
two different Orders. 

The leading passions and affections, under each 
order, point out the Genera. 

The complicated nature of some of the passions, 
and other contingent circumstances, may be consi- 
dered as constituting Species and Varieties, under 
each characteristic Germs. 

These distinctions were suggested to the Author, 
by an attention to the natural progress of our pas- 
sions and affections, from the first exciting cause, to 
all the ramifications and diversities of which they 



48 SURPRISE. 

are susceptible. The Reader will doubtless perceive 
a striking coincidence with the classification, which 
Nosological and Botanical writers have found it ex- 
pedient to adopt. 

The Introductory Emotions, from their nature and 
influence, demand a prior investigation. 

I. SURPRISE. 

We have described Surprise to be the strong emo- 
tion, excited by something which presents itself in 
a sudden and unexpected manner, when the mind 
was totally unprepared for it ; something we pre- 
sume to be highly important, and yet the kind or ex- 
tent of this importance has not been ascertained. 
It is the apparent novelty of the subject, or of some 
peculiarity relative to it ; or the unexpectedness of 
its introduction, at a particular time, or in a particu- 
lar manner, contrary to probability or expectancy, 
which produces the effect ; and whenever these cir- 
cumstances take place, Surprise may be equally ex- 
cited by things agreeable or disagreeable ; by objects 
of our love or hatred, admiration or horror. 

The primary or natural effects of Surprise, are 
to rouse the mind, to force it out of that train of 
ideas with which it was occupied, and compel it to 
advert to the novel object ; which is afterwards to 
exert a characteristic influence, according to its na- 
ture. The secondary effect of Surprise, is to add 
an impetus to the existing cause, whatever that may 
be. It renders pleasing sensations more delightful; 
and it gives an additional keenness to the unpleas- 
ing ones. This effect is evidently produced by the 
force of an awakened and active imagination ; which 
preceding either deliberate attention, or the exer- 
cise of judgment magnifies the apparent good or the 
apparent ill, as soon as their specific natures are 
obscurely perceived. In Surprise, the mind is to- 
tally passive. The Emotion can neither be produ- 
ced nor prevented by any exertions of the will. 



WONDER. 49 

Nor is it its immediate province, either to reflect or 
investigate. Its pathological effect is that of a sim- 
ple stimulus, whose sole object is to arouse the at- 
tention. Sudden startings, earliest looks, extension 
of arms and hands, strong exclamations, are the 
characteristic signs of the emotion ; and when the 
violence of surprise excites an alarm, which is oft- 
times the case without the actual presence of dan- 
ger, the whole body is instantly placed in an attitude 
of defence. 

II. WONDER. 

Wonder expresses an embarrassment of the mind, 
after it is somewhat recovered from the first percus- 
sion of surprise. It is the effect produced by an 
interesting subject, which has been suddenly pre- 
sented to the mind, but concerning which there may 
be many intricacies respecting the subject itself, or 
the cause and manner of its introduction. 

In Wonder the mind begins to re-act, but its ideas 
are in a state of confusion. It attempts to examine 
and investigate, but it seems engaged in a fruitless 
inquiry. It rapidly collects together various cir- 
cumstances, from which to form conjectures, but 
rejects them as unsatisfactory, as soon as they are 
formed. Whenever the desired discovery is made, 
Wonder ceases, and gives way to the impression 
which is correspondent to the nature of the disco- 
very, and to those circumstances which are perceiv- 
ed to belong to the exciting cause ; whether they be 
productive of joy or grief, admiration or abhorrence, 
hope or fearful apprehension. As in this emotion, 
the mind begins to exert its active and discriminat- 
ing powers, so is it able to prolong or to shorten the 
effects of the emotion, either by dwelling upon the 
subject, and deliberately following its intricacies, or 
by diverting its attention to other objects. Being 
introduced by surprise, and partaking of its indefi- 
nite nature, the pathological indications of Wonder 

5 



50 ASTONISHMENT. 

are very similar. They are, however, less violent; 
and they are intermixed with stronger marks of 
mental embarrassment. The eyes are sometimes 
fastened upon the author or narrator of something 
wonderful ; sometimes they are directed upwards, 
to be more detached from every surrounding object, 
which might distract the attention ; sometimes thej 
roll about, as if they were in search of an object that 
may be equal to the explanation; and the half-open- 
ed mouth seems eager to receive the desired infor- 
mation. In very intricate and important concerns, 
total abstraction from every thing external, and 
depth of thought marked by countenance and pos- 
ture, indicate how busily the mind is employed in. 
searching out the mystery. 

III. ASTONISHMENT. 

Astonishment is the kind and degree of wonder 
introduced by surprise, which as it were, over- 
whelms or petrifies the soul. The mental powers 
are in a stupor, in a state of stagnation. High as- 
tonishment is the incubus of the mind, which feels 
nothing at the instant, so much as its inability to act. 
This emotion always relates to things of the highest 
importance, to things which appear too vast and ex- 
tensive for the grasp of intellect, rather than to intri- 
cacies. When it relates to human conduct, Aston- 
ishment is excited by great undertakings, or exten- 
sive projects ; by the accomplishment of plans which 
appeared more than human, whether beneficial or 
destructive ; or by some excess either of virtue or 
of vice. The body marks, in a striking manner, 
the singular state of the mind. That also becomes 
immoveable ; petrified as it were, or thunder- st ruck ; 
which are the favourite expressions, in aimost every 
language. The eyes are firmly fixed, without being 
directed to any particular object; the character of 
countenance, which was formed by the habitual in- 
fluence of some predominant affection, is for a time 



ASTONISHMENT. 51 

effaced ; and a suspension of every other expression, 
a certain vacuity, strongly notes this singular suspen- 
sion of mind. 

Wonder and astonishment are expressions which 
in many cases, may he used synonymously ; as both 
causes and effects are very analogous : for the in- 
tricacy attending an important subject may be con- 
nected with its vastness ; and sometimes occasioned 
by it. When these are introduced by Surprise, 
that is, when subjects of the kind are suddenly and 
unexpectedly forced upon the attention, their united 
effects are extremely powerful ; and they give an 
infinite momentum to their causes, whether they be 
of a pleasing or displeasing nature. 

According to the above view of the emotion, it 
may obviously be connected with the causes either 
of happiness or misery ; causes which inspire those 
pleasing sensations, which so often accompany the 
perception of thines sublime and stupendous, or 
which excite painful sensations from things we deem 
horrible. It may introduce the excess of joy, or 
the excess of fearful apprehension ; call forth the 
most exalted admiration, or inspire the deepest in- 
dignation and contempt. 

The term Amazement, which is sometimes em- 
ployed, seems to express a medium between won- 
der and astonishment. It is manifestly borrowed 
from the extensive and complicated intricacies of a 
labyrinth ; in which there are endless mazes, with- 
out the discovery of a clue. Hence an idea is con- 
veyed of more than simple wonder; the mind is lost 
in wonder. 

Though all these emotions have, generally speak- 
ing, the greatest power in things which unexpect- 
edly arrest the attention ; yet they may also pro- 
ceed from contemplation. When the subject is 
complicated, the more we discern concerning it, 
the more will unexpected novelties present them- 
selves, and successfully become the causes of sur- 
prise. These novelties may be of such a nature. 



52 CLASSIFICATION OF THE PASSIONS, &C 

as to amaze and confound the understanding. We 
may aiso be the more deeply penetrated with a 
conviction of the vastness and incomprehensibility 
of the subject, so as to be worked up into astonish- 
ment. The powers of the soul may become petri- 
fied as it were, or paralized by their fruitless at- 
tempts to comprehend whit is far beyond their 
reach, and to fathom that which is unfathomable ! 



SECTION III. 

CLASSIFICATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS, 
AS THEY RESPECT THE SELFISH OR THE SOCIAL 
PRINCIPLE. 

We are now prepared to contemplate the imme- 
diate effects of those particular qualities, supposed 
to be seated in the subjects themselves ; which the 
emotions of Surprise, Wonder, and Astonishment, 
mav have forced upon our attention, or which may 
have been discovered by calmer observation. 

According to the order proposed we shall first 
attend to those which are the most interesting to 
Ourselves, or which relate to the principle of Self- 
Love. 

CLASS I. 

OX THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTION'S, WHICH OWE 
THEIR ORIGIN TO THE PRINCIPLE OF SELF-LOVE. 

These may be divided into two distinct Orders ; 
that in which Lovf, and the Idea of Good, that is. 
of something either beneficial or pleasing, are 
more immediately present to the mind ; and that 
in which Haired, and the Idea of Evil are most im- 
pressive. 



joy. 53 



ORDER I. 

THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS FOUNDED ON SELF- 
LOVE. WHICH ARE EXCITED BY THE IDEA OF 
GOOD. 

These are of two Kinds : the one relates to 
Good in Possession, the other to that in Expectan- 

That in Possession inspires the following pas- 
sions and affections, Joy. Contentment, Satisfaction. 
Complacency, 

JOY. 

Joy is the vivid pleasure or delight, inspired bj 
the immediate reception of something peculiarly 
grateful ; of something obviously productive of an 
essential advantage ; or of something which pro- 
mises to contribute to our present or future well- 
being. This deiight may be communicated, bj 
our liberation from fearful apprehensions, or from 
a state of actual distress : — by obtaining some new 
acquisition, some addition to our stock of enjoyment : 
-^-or by the full assurance of this, without any mix- 
ture of doubt. 

The various degrees of Impetus produced by this 
passion, will depend upon the sensibility of the sub- 
ject, his supposed ignorance of the object, the sud- 
den and unexpected manner in which it has been 
communicated, and the contrast formed between 
the preceding and the present state. A sudden and 
instantaneous translation from extreme anxiety or 
the depth of distress, to an exalted pinnacle of hap- 
piness, constitutes the highest possible degree. In 
this case, Surprise. Wonder. Astonishment, take pos- 
session of the soul ; and though they may at first 
confound, they afterwards are productive of unut- 
terable transports. 

5* 



54 JOY, GLADNESS, 

On the first impulse of Joy, we are perfectly 
passive. No effort of the will can check the sensa- 
tion itself; and where the joy is excessive, it is not 
in the power of resolution to suppress every exter- 
nal sign. The state of passive impression is suc- 
ceeded by the exertions of a vigorous imagination. 
w r hich, with rapid confusion, runs over the many 
supposed advantages to be derived from the wel- 
come treasure : and these it is disposed to multiply 
and aggrandize, far beyond the bounds of reason 
or probability. This pleasing, I had almost said, 
intoxicated state of mind, produces correspondent 
effects upon the system. A brisk and delectable 
flow of the animal spirits diffuses a pleasurable sen- 
sation over the whole frame. Every species of 
torpor is subdued ; an exhilaration succeeds, indi- 
cating itself by emotions, which not only manifest 
the influence of the passion to spectators, but so- 
licit their participation. The subject feels himself 
too much animated to remain in a tranquil state. 
Unusual vivacity in the eyes, and smiles upon the 
countenance, are accompanied by joyful acclama- 
tions, clapping of hands, and various other lively 
gestures. Where the mind is strongly agitated, 
and under no restraint from a sense of decorum, or 
solicitude for character, loud laughter, jumping, 
dancing, and the most wild and extravagant gestures. 
indicate the frolicksomeness of the heart. 

Intense meditation upon some supposed good, the 
contemplation of its intrinsic worth, and of the hap- 
py consequences which are expected to flow from 
it, have sometimes raised the mind to transports, 
over which reason has lost its controul. But these 
instances seldom occur; as they require the union 
of strong conviction, lively imagination, and a warm 
heart. The transports of Joy usually proceed from 
sudden impulse ; and of consequence, ecstacies will 
sometimes be great, from very trivial causes. 

Gladness is an inferior degree of Joy ; it may be 
excited by incidents agreeable or desirable in them- 



CHEERFULNESS, SATISFACTION. 55 

selves, which are not of sufficient moment to raise 
the ecstasies of joy ; or it may consist in that lively 
flow of spirits, which immediately succeeds to the 
transports of Joy. 

Cheerfulness is an emotion of still gentler influ- 
ence. It is often inspired by very trivial circum- 
stances, in persons of a lively disposition, and free 
from anxious care. 

Mirth is a higher degree of cheerfulness, gene- 
rally excited by things facetious, or ludicrous ; and 
greatly augmented by the power of social sympathy. 
Thus it frequently becomes noisy and boisterous, 
from causes not able to communicate the smallest 
emotion to an individual in a solitary state. 

When the mind is more composed, and we are 
able to reflect, with a degree of calmness, upon the 
good received or anticipated, we become variously 
affected, — according to the value we place upon 
the object, — according to its apparent suitableness 
to our state and situation, — and according to its 
correspondence with our previous desires and ex- 
pectations : and if the good be not transitory or 
evanescent, we remain under the influence of Con- 
tentment, Satisfaction, or Complacency. 

Contentment expresses the acquiescence of the 
mind in the portion of good we possess. It implies 
a perception that our lot might have been better, 
or that it is inferior to what others enjoy, or that it 
does not fully answer the expectations we had form- 
ed. An effort of reason or of prudence is neces- 
sary to produce it. We compare our present with 
our former situation, or with the inferior lot of 
others ; and thus learn to acquiesce in the degree of 
advantage obtained. 

Satisfaction denotes a pleasing state of mind, ex- 
ceeding that communicated by simple Contentment. 
The good obtained is duly appreciated ; it is found 
to be correspondent to our desires, and adequate to 
our wishes. The word Satisfaction is frequently 
employed to express the full accomplishment of 



56 COMPLACENCY, 

some particular desire ; which always communicates 
a temporary pleasure, whatever may be the nature 
of that desire. This affection by no means implies, 
that felicity is complete, as it chiefly refers to parti- 
cular objects ; and when it respects our state and 
situation, it admits that greater good might have 
been our portion, though we are more than content- 
ed, we are well-pleased with what we possess. 

Complacency is full and continued satisfaction, 
connected with a considerable degree of Approba- 
tion. It has intrinsic value, or some species of worth 
for its object ; — some mental excellencies, or ad- 
vantages accruing from them ; — some sentiment, 
disposition, acquirement, conduct, performance, 
either of ourselves, or of others with whom we are 
immediately connected, which, upon close exami- 
nation, we deem deserving of esteem or applause. 
Complacency may be enjoyed as the reward of our 
own conduct, or of the purity and benevolence of 
our motives : it may be inspired by a review of con- 
duct, acquirement, disposition, on which we can 
pronounce that it was zuell done, or well intended. 
Complacency may also relate to the approved con- 
duct, sentiments, attainments, dispositions of others, 
for whom we are deeply concerned. In this case, 
the affection may be inspired, by their conduct and 
dispositions towards ourselves, or by the interest we 
take in whatever contributes to the promotion of 
their own honour and happiness. 

The Satisfaction produced by complacency, indi- 
cates that we have, in some respect or other, a 
personal interest in the object of it ; which distin- 
guishes the affection from that high gratification we 
may enjoy, when we contemplate and applaud the 
sentiments, dispositions, and actions of great and 
respectable characters, with which we have no im- 
mediate concern. 

The Approbation which accompanies complacen- 
cy, distinguishes its object from the more common 
causes of satisfaction. These causes may arise 



COMPLACENCY. 57 

from whatever quadrates with our wishes and de- 
sires, without paying attention to their intrinsic me- 
rit. A suitableness to the occasion is the only re- 
quisite to inspire satisfaction ; but the Approbation 
implied in complacency, conveys the idea of some 
kind of Excellency, The term has never been pro- 
faned by the application of it to guilty pursuits, dis- 
honourable success, or unworthy sentiments ; how- 
ever they may flatter our vanity, or be the comple- 
tion of our wishes. Nor are things of a trivial or 
transient nature, deemed worthy of this affection. 
It is not said of a mere spectator, that he takes Com- 
placency in a ball, a concert, or at a theatrical ex- 
hibition ; however highly he may be delighted and 
satisfied with the performance. 

Nor can the term be applied with propriety to 
any beneficial acquisition, which has been purely 
accidental. The highest prize which ihe wheel of 
fortune may have thrown into our laps, may be re- 
ceived with joy, delight, and satisfaction ; but the 
terms Approbation and Complacency would be im- 
properly employed to express our feelings. 

Complacency may be inspired by some parts of 
the inanimate creation, in which we have an im- 
mediate concern, and which communicate pleasure 
on the review. Works of art well executed, may 
be contemplated with Complacency; certainly by 
the Artist, if he has succeeded to his wishes ; and 
the Possessor will enjoy something of a similar 
pleasure, if the performance be calculated to recall 
pleasing ideas, or if he should have manifested 
either taste or address in the purchase of it. (See 
Note H.) 

The above instances will evince that, in strict 
propriety of language, Complacency is alone appli- 
cable to that species of Good, which originates 
from some mental or moral excellence ; where 
there is an indication of propriety, ingenuity, wis- 
dom, address, or dignity in sentiment, design, exe- 
cution ; or of rectitude and benevolence in the mo- 
tive. 



58 COMPLACENCY. 

. It is obvious that the affection of Complacency 
will possess different degrees of strength, according 
to the various kinds and degrees of excellence dis- 
cernible in the existing cause. The highest degree 
of Complacency can alone be inspired by the obvi- 
ous use of wise and pertinent measures, from benefi- 
cent motives, which are, or promised to be, produc- 
tive of the most desirable ends ; or by laudable 
dispositions, and powerful exertions, crowned with 
the success we most ardently desired. When the 
means have been as wise as. the nature of the thing 
would admit, the motives the most noble and gene- 
rous ; when the execution indicates skill, and the 
result proves as successful as could have been wish- 
ed. Complacency, respecting that object, is com- 
plete. 

High Complacency is the most grateful of all the 
Affections. It possesses an elevation and a suavity 
peculiar to itself. It is permanent satisfaction, 
enjoying the full approbation of reason ; and con- 
sequently suffers no ahoy from the struggle of con- 
tending passions, or opposite desires. When it is 
inspired by our own conduct, it is accompanied by 
self-approbation, or the testimony of an applaud- 
ing conscience, enlivened perhaps by the voice of 
gratitude, and enriched by the esteem of the 
worthy. If it proceed from the conduct of others, 
it augments the pleasures of affection, friendship, 
and gratitude. 

According to the above view of the affection, 
may a virtuous and comprehensive mind, contem- 
plate things in themselves of a displeasing nature, 
with Complacency : such as difficulties, w r hich are 
introductory to benefits ; and sufferings, which may 
be requisite for the production of the most essential 
good. 

But the affection of Complacency has its coun- 
terfeit. Being more complicate than either of the 
preceding, and the approbation of the mind form- 
ing a constituent part of it, an erroneous opinion of 



PRIDE. 59 

ourselves may change the nature of this sublime 
affection, and render it the parent of vice and folly. 
Thus false conceptions of our own talents, acquire- 
ment, conduct, may inspire Pride, Vanity, Haugh- 
tiness, and Arrogance. 

Notwithstanding these affections are evil in their 
nature and tendency, yet as they are the illegiti- 
mate offspring of Complacency, violated by Self- 
love, and have the appearance of great good for 
their object, they demand a place in this arrange- 
ment. 

Pride is that exalted idea of our state, qualifica- 
tions, or attainments, which exceeds the boundaries 
of justice, and induces us to look down upon sup* 
posed inferiors, with some degree of unmerited 
contempt. 

When this elevated idea of ourselves becomes a 
motive to avoid and despise any thing mean and 
unworthy, its impropriety is overlooked ; and as it 
leads to worthy conduct, it is honoured with the 
appellation of laudable Pride. 

It sometimes consists in exaggerated ideas of the 
superiority of our own country ; of merit in our 
relatives or intimate connexions, whose character 
and conduct reflect some rays of honour upon our- 
selves ; — such as the pride of family descent, — that 
of children whose parents may have acquired cele- 
brity, — or of parents in the accomplishments of 
their children, or particular honours conferred upon 
them. This proceeding from the excess of affec- 
tion, where affection is natural, is called a pardona- 
ble Pride. 

When Pride is manifested by an ostentatious 
display of wealth, station, or accomplishments, it is 
deemed a vain Pride. 

When it is indulged to such an excess, that it 
looks down with disdain upon others, but little in- 
ferior, perhaps equal, possibly much superior in real 
merit, it is branded with the title of insufferable 
Pride. (See Note I.) 



60 VANITY. 

Vanity is that species of Pride, which, while it 
presumes upon a degree of superiority in some 
particular articles, fondly courts the applause of 
every one within its sphere of action ; seeking every 
occasion to display some talent, or some supposed 
excellency. Generally speaking, it is the foible of 
superficial and frivolous minds, that think much 
more of their attainments, than of their remaining 
deficiencies. Yet it may be founded on the exces- 
sive love of praise, in those who possess no incon- 
siderable share of merit. 

Haughtiness is an overt act of Pride, manifested 
by some conduct or expression, indicative of an 
unmerited contempt of others. It may be deemed 
in this case, the swelling of Pride into an emo- 
tion. 

Arrogance indicates itself by some particular 
claims to precedency, or marks of distinction and 
respect, from those whom Pride considers its inferi- 
ors in station and character; or by impertinent pre- 
tensions to an equality with superiors. 

These indications of false complacency in their 
mildest influence, may be placed with strict pro- 
priety among the affections. Upon sudden occa- 
sions they rise into emotions ; and sometimes parti- 
cularly when connected with anger, from a supposed 
insult or neglect, they possess every characteristic 
of passion. 

Having considered the Passions and Affections 
immediately connected with the Possession of Good, 
we shall proceed to the Passions and Affections 
which are excited by the contemplation of Good, 
when it is not in our possession, but of which the 
attainment is deemed possible. Which constitutes 
our second division under the present Order. These 
are Desire and Hope. 



DESIRE. 0! 



DESIRE. 



The general nature of desire has already engaged 
our attention. It has been described as that in- 
fluential effect which the perception of Good or 
Evil produces within us, in consequence of which 
we seek to obtain the one and avoid the other. 
Our plan demands that we now contemplate Desire 
as it is excited by particular objects, conducive of 
some apparent good, either of benefit or pleasure, 
which we have not yet obtained. 

According to the common acceptation of the term, 
Desire may be considered as an eager longing for 
some Good centered, or apparently centered, in 
particular objects, situations, or circumstances. 

This description is made as general as possible, 
in order to comprehend two different acts of the 
mind concerning such objects ; which are signified 
by the terms Wish and Desire, 

Lord Kaims expresses this difference in the fol- 
lowing manner : " Desire, taken in its proper sense, 
is that internal act which by influencing the will, 
makes us to proceed to action. Desire, in a lax 
sense, respects also actions and events that depend 
not on us ; as when I desire that my freind may 
have a son to represent him ; or that my country 
may flourish in arts and sciences ; but such internal 
act is more properly termed a wish than desire."* 
Though this observation does not fully mark the 
difference, it plainly indicates there is one. 

We will therefore first consider the Desire which 
is influential to action : and then advert more par- 
ticularly to the characteristic distinctions between 
that and a Wish. 

In the first sense, Desire may be defined, that 
uneasy sensation excited in the mind by the view, 
or by the contemplation, of any desirable good, 
which is not in our possession, which we are solici- 

*Eleraents of Criticism, vol. i. p. 42. 
6 



62 DESIRE. 

tous to obtain, and of which the attainment appears 
at least possible. 

Desire is in its nature restless. Mr. Locke 
justly remarks that " it is the uneasiness it occasions, 
which excites the mind to pursue its object, and 
rouses it from its natural state of apathy and inacti- 
vity." Thus it is founded on some species of discon- 
tent ; for were we perfectly contented and satisfied 
with all our sensations, and with every circumstance 
surrounding us. all desire must cease. It relates to 
something which is not immediately in our power, 
and which requires either our own exertions, or the 
agency of others over whom we possess some in- 
fluence. It implies, therefore, that something is to 
be done, before the end can be obtained ; and this 
necessarily implies also that there is a possibility of 
success attending the attempt. It is not always dis- 
couraged by difficulties ; but our most active desires 
are never so ardent as to attempt known impossibili- 
ties. 

Desires are excited either by the wretchedness of 
our present situation. — by periodical wants, which 
demand gratification, — by comparing the defects 
and imperfections of our own state, with the pre- 
ferable state of others, — or by the recent percep- 
tion of some pleasing and useful quality in objects, 
which we wish to appropriate. 

When Desire is excited by wretchedness itself, 
it looks forwards towards Good $ towards liberation 
from this state, and the enjoyment of a better. 
Relief, and the means of relief, are the predominant 
ideas accompanying Desire. In this ca?e, the idea 
of a good is immediately engrafted on the stock of 
evil. The desires excited by periodical wants be- 
long to the appetites exclusively. When the com- 
parison of our own state with that of others implants 
desires, they proceed from the discovery of new 
sources of enjoyment, to which we were strangers, 
united with a conviction ibat there is a possibility of 
attaining them. The recent perception of pleasing 



DESIRE. 63 

qualities in objects, has a similar influence. Our 
natural love of good inspires a wish to possess 
whatever promises an augmentation of our wel- 
fare. 

Hence it appears that our Ignorance is often the 
parent of contentment. We must acquire some 
knowledge of stations and qualities before we can 
desire them. The enlargement of our ideas becomes 
a copious source of discontent with our present 
possessions, and inspires ardent desires after new 
objects. Nothing can injure the good we possess, 
so much as the idea of a something better : and 
the superlative is equally injurious to the compara- 
tive. 

The objects of desire are infinite, and infinitely 
diversified. They relate to whatever is essential 
to our existence and welfare, and to every thing 
which may strike the fancy ; that is to all our natu- 
ral, and all our artificial wants. They refer also to 
all our social connexions, and to all our mental 
pursuits. These desires acquire such a diversity of 
character, according to their origin, the degrees of 
their strength, and other circumstances, as to render 
a minute analysis impossible. We shall therefore 
confine ourselves to a few remarks. 

It is observable that many of those Desires which 
are common to all men, and without which the 
usual offices of life could not be discharged, are 
of the mildest and most permanent natures ; such 
as the desire of preserving health, a desire of pro- 
curing a competency suitable to our station, to pro- 
vide for our families, &c. Desires of this class are 
not distinguished by any particular epithet ; nor are 
they denominated either Affections or Passions, 
though they obviously belong to the former. But 
when any extraordinary and unusual desire pre- 
sents itself, which exceeds the common tenour of 
disposition ; or when the object of desire is some- 
thing peculiarly striking and important, it is distin- 
guished by some discriminating epithet, and fre- 



64 DESIRE. 

quently assumes the character of an affection, emo- 
tion, or passion. 

Thus, the moderate and legitimate gratification 
of the sensual appetites, is not marked by any par- 
ticular appellation ; but inordinate desires, which 
transgress the bounds of sobriety and decency, are 
stigmatised by the names of Gluttony, Drunken- 
ness, Debauchery, Lust, fyc. When we expatiate 
upon such a character, we remark that the person 
to whom it belongs, is passionately fond of good 
eating, or of his bottle ; that he is led by his pas- 
sions, &c. An exemplary command over such ex- 
cesses is honoured with the title of Temperance, and 
Chastity. These virtues, consisting in the love of 
moderation, and in purity of mind, deserve a place 
among the affections ; although, from the mildness 
of their perpetual influence, they are simply term- 
ed virtuous dispositions. The moderate desire of 
wealth has no particular name ; but when the de- 
sire becomes excessive, when it consists in amassing 
riches, without applying them either to utility or 
enjoyment, it is termed Avarice. This also is de- 
nominated a passion; not from the violence of any 
emotion, but from its permanent effects, and from 
the passive and abject state of the person who is 
under its influence. When riches are eagerly pur- 
sued, in defiance of justice and humanity, the con- 
duct is termed Rapaciousness. The wish to improve 
in any-valuable qualification or to acquire esteem, 
when moderate, has no distinguishing character ; 
but an eager desire to equal or excel others in any 
particular accomplishment, is called Emulation; 
and to seek pre-eminence in office, title, or station, 
is Ambition. These desires are frequently so inor- 
dinate as to require the name of Passions : thus the 
ambitious passions is a familiar expression. (See 
Note K.) The exemplary desire of regulating our 
thoughts and pursuits, by right principles, consti- 
tutes Virtue ; and all the duties which are per- 
formed with warmth and feeling are deemed the re- 



DESIRE. 65 

suit of virtuous affections : the opposite propensi- 
ties and cond act constitute Vice, whose characteris- 
tic consists in depraved affections, and ungovern- 
cd passions. The desire of yielding obedience to 
the divine command, and habitual solicitude to ob- 
tain the divine favour, is Religion, This, under its 
mildest influence, is termed, a disposition or charac- 
ter. When a religious temper is indicated by prayer 
and meditation, which warmly interest the affec- 
tions, it is called devotion. If any one imagines that 
the divine favour is to be obtained by a scrupulous 
attention to frivolous ceremonies, he is considered 
as superstitious. Superstition is deemed a principle 
of action rather than an affection. It is, in fact, con- 
secrated frivolity, devoid of love or regard to the 
supposed duties it enjoins, or to its object. A tena- 
cious reverence for unimportant sentiments, with a 
censorious disposition towards those whose opinions 
are opposite, is the province of bigotry ; which, if it 
deserve the title of an affection, certainly does not 
belong to the benevolent class. An earnest desire, 
and unremitted endeavours, to propagate any parti- 
cular sentiment, or to enforce a particular rule of 
conduct, either out of love of truth, or of those we 
wish to become proselytes, orin order to recommend 
ourselves to some Principal, by our assiduity, is de- 
nominated zeal ; which is deemed an affection. When 
some particular object gains the ascendancy over 
every other, and occupies the greater portion of our 
attention, it is occasionally termed a passion; as a 
passion for music, kc. in what sense, and with what 
propriety has already been considered. Such an in- 
vincible predilection for any subject as shall occupy 
the choicest of our thoughts, and incite to the most 
vigorous exertions, with such an ardour and con- 
stancy as to brave difficulties and danger, is termed 
enthusiasm ; which has a place among the Passions, 
The very Motives by which we are actuated, and 
the choice of means in order to effectuate our pur- 
pose, form various species of desire, sufficient to cha- 
6* 



66 DESIRE. 

racterize the prevailing disposition. These consti* 
tute integrity, honesty, industry, honour, &c. or ar- 
tifice, deceit, cruelty, &c. according as the prevail- 
ing desire is under the influence of worthy, or base 
and unworthy principles and dispositions. 

It should also be recollected, that a particular de- 
sire may, in certain circumstances, become the pa- 
rent of various other affections and passions. Of 
this the Passion of Love presents us with striking- 
instances ; which, in its progress, is so frequently 
productive of hope, fear, joy, grief, and tormenting 
jealousies. In short, every pursuit, which prima- 
rily respected the gratification of our senses, may 
become the occasion of hope, joy, fear, anger, sor- 
row, envy, &c. according to the impediments or aids 
received from others, or according to our success or 
disappointments. 

The Novelty of an object will frequently elevate 
desire into a passion. This doubtless proceeds 
from the force of imagination, which greatly en- 
hances the value of those qualities which the object 
may possess, and is very prone to supply defects. 
Love at first sight illustrates and confirms this idea. 
Those charms which had seized the mind by sur- 
prise, become both unrivalled and irresistible to a 
heated imagination. 

Impediments to our desires, if they be not suff- 
iciently powerful to subjugate them, redouble their 
ardour. The affections being once engaged, desires 
being once enkindled, we are placed in a very dif- 
ferent state of mind, from that we experienced 
previous to the excitement. We know that the dis- 
appointment of our wishes will not leave us in the 
former state of tranquillity, but will become a source, 
of unhappiness ; we therefore redouble our energy 
not to suffer a disappointment. This also is strong- 
ly exemplified in the passion of Love. Pride, an- 
ger, &c. are sometimes called in as powerful auxili- 
aries ; and they exert all their impetuosity in sup- 
port of our pretensions. Inordinate Ambition abun- 



DESIRE, £7 

dantly illustrates this fact. It engenders a thousand 
evil passions, which like the Imps of Sin in Milton. 
yelp around it. Where it meets with obstacles, it 
is not scrupulous about the means of opposing them. 
Success increases its powers : and contrary to every 
other monster, it is rendered more insatiable and 
ravenous by being fed. In either state, therefore, 
it becomes the terror and the scourge of the earth. 
• Mental pursuits seem to be the most remote from 
every thing passionate and turbulent. An affection 
for science is, in general, the most productive of a 
pleasing serenity of mind. Yet even here no small 
diversity is observable, according as the memory, 
the reasoning powers, or the imagination are em- 
ployed. The knowledge of interesting facts, and 
the examination of the relation of things to each 
other, are generally of the calmest nature ; though 
the latter may justly be deemed of a more elevated 
character than the former. It is sometimes also re- 
warded with the transports of joy, inspired by the 
surprise of some new and important discovery. 
The creative powers of the mind are as various in 
their effects, as they are unlimited in their opera- 
tions. They are the sources of lively amusement, 
and they may excite ecstacies. Where the imagi- 
nation is the most vivid, its pleasures are the 
strongest ; but they are of short duration : whereas 
the pursuits of knowledge furnish a temperate per- 
petuity of gratification, sufficient to comfort and 
support the indefatigable student, in his most ardu- 
ous researches. 

The Motives to study are accompanied with vari- 
ous effects upon the mind. When science is pur- 
sued simply from the pleasure which knowledge af- 
fords, that pleasure is placid and mild. When the 
primary motive is to benefit mankind by useful com- 
munications, the pursuit itself has self-complacency 
for its companion. When the object is personal 
advantage, either of fortune or of reputation, ad- 
ventitious passions will arise according to the pros- 



68 DESIRE, 

pect of success, or the actual accomplishment of 
our desires ; according to apprehensions entertain- 
ed, or to disappointments experienced. When high 
ambition is the primary object, the passions pro- 
ceeding from success, renown, disappointment, un- 
certainty, rivalship, disgrace ; such as joy, sorrow, 
vexation, hope, fear, jealousy, &c. &c. will agitate 
the mind. 

The desires respecting our social connexions, are 
for the reasons given above, and according to the 
plan proposed, referred to a distinct class. 

Desires, inspired by religious principles, are of 
all others the most diversified, both in kind and de- 
gree ; they are according to the notions we enter- 
tain of religion, and the stronger or weaker effect of 
these notions upon our feelings. The most exten- 
sive signification of the term Religion, that which 
comprehends the greatest diversity of opinions, and 
meets the ideas of most philosophers, seems to be 
the following : An impressive sense of the irresistible 
influence of one or more superior Beings, over the con- 
cerns of mortals, which may become beneficial or ini- 
mical to our welfare. It is evident, that a great di- 
versity of the most opposite principles may be in- 
cluded under this general definition ; and it is no 
less evident, that these principles, as often as they 
become influential, will be productive of effects 
correspondent with their natures ; will form the 
temper, and implant desires, most congenial with 
themselves, but the most opposite to each other. 
Zeal and enthusiasm are common to them all ; but 
their indications will be correspondent with the sup- 
posed characters of the Powers they revere, and 
the methods supposed to be necessary to conciliate 
their favour, and avert their displeasure. Fear, 
terror, bigotry, superstition, cruelty, may thus be 
engendered ; every evil propensity and atrocious 
vice may thus be consecrated, however inconsistent 
with the genuine dictates of religion, or the feelings 
of humanity. (See Note L.) 



WISH. 6$ 

When, on the contrary, the mind is inspired with 
the most exalted conceptions of Deity, and with 
correspondent sentiments of moral obligation, reli- 
gion may cherish the purest dispositions and affec- 
tions. It may moderate and restrain inordinate de- 
sires, — elevate the mind by the contemplation of 
perfection in character, and by a warm desire ta 
imitate. It may inspire love, joy, hope, gratitude : 
— correct impatience and discontent ; — foster the 
principles of universal benevolence, and of every 
social virtue. Thus may Religion, according to 
the ideas formed of its object and duties, be render- 
ed capable of exciting the most despicable, or the 
most noble affections ; and of forming the most ab- 
ject, or the most elevated of characters ! 

Mr. Hume has remarked, that Religion is the 
fulcrum, which Archimedes required, to enable 
him to move the world. He might have added, 
that according to the manner and address exercis- 
ed, in applying the lever of opinion to this ful- 
crum, will the world be raised up to the heavens, 
or depressed down to the abyss. 

A Wish is an inactive desire. It is the result of 
that longing after happiness so natural to man, in 
cases were no expectations can be formed, no efforts 
can be made. It is the breathing after something 
desirable, where the means to obtain it are not in 
our power ; or where the opportunity may be for 
ever lost. It is excited by the contemplation of a 
something, which if it could possibly be obtained, 
might augment our portion of good ; or by reflect- 
ing upon something, which, had it been possessed, 
performed, or avoided, might have proved peculiar- 
ly advantageous. Thus we may wish for impossi- 
bilities, which cannot be the objects of our active 
desires. The beggar may wish to be a King, who 
cannot seriously desire it. We may wish that we 
could fly, even without wings, and pay a visit to some 
of the planets ; though we know that the wish will 
fee in vain. 



70 HOPE. 

A Wish may refer to past scenes, where desire is 
totally inapplicable. The essence of repentance 
consists in wishing that we had conducted ourselves 
in a different manner. 

These instances abundantly confirm the remark 
of Lord Kaims, that we may wish for things not in 
our power ; and they show that the range of our 
wishes is of an infinite extent, comprehending im- 
possibilities, that have a reference to the past, pre- 
sent, or future. (See Note M.) 

Hope is the encouragement given to desire ; the 
pleasing expectancy that its object shall be obtain- 
ed. Without this affection, desire would sink into 
despondency ; like a simple wish it would remain 
inactive, and prey upon itself; producing perpetual 
uneasiness, destitute of any advantage. Hope is so 
pleasing, and so invigorating an affection, that it is 
emphatically styled the Balm of Life. It preserves 
the mind from stagnating in its present possessions, 
corrects the uneasiness of desire, and animates it to 
struggle with the difficulties it may have to encoun- 
ter. Hope possesses the happy secret of anticipating 
the good we desire. By the pleasing sensation it 
communicates, we already taste the pleasures we 
seek. Where the object has not been of the first 
importance, the pleasures of Hope have frequently 
been experienced to surpass those of actual posses- 
sion ; for the imagination is, in this affection, solely 
occupied by the supposed advantages and elligible 
qualities of its object, without attending to any of 
its imperfections. In its general operation, the in- 
dulgence of Hope is mixed with certain portions of 
doubt and solicitude ; but when doubt is removed, 
and the expectation becomes sanguine, hope rises 
into joy, and it has been known to produce trans- 
ports and ecstacies, equally with the full accomplish- 
ment of ardent desires. Thus, according to the 
degrees of force with which it affects the mind, it 
may be considered either as'an affection ora passion. 

It also appears that Joy and Hope are very si mi- 



HOPE. 71 

larin their natures ; and that the pleasing sensations 
they inspire, are very correspondent. The diffe- 
rence consists in the degree of uncertainty which in- 
tervenes before possession, and checks the ardour of 
hope ; and as the object was in expectancy, the plea- 
sure is not so powerfully quickened by the influence 
of Surprise. Yet where the object has been highly 
valued, and the anxiety great concerning its attain- 
ment, a release from this anxiety has communicated 
a delectable elasticity to the mind, and rendered its 
sensations as vivid as those excited by more unex- 
pected causes. 

As the above Passions and Affections are inspired 
by the contemplation of Good, thus are most of 
them of a pleasant nature. This is obviously the 
case with Joy, and all the affections connected with 
it. Hope is also, uniformly, a pleasant affection. 
Desire will vary according to its object, degrees of 
strength, and the different passions and affections so 
frequently arising from it. Although in its mildest 
state, it possesses a degree of restlessness, which 
serves as a stimulus to exertions, yet its immediate 
attendants give a preponderancy in its favour. De- 
sire, as defined above, has always some species of 
Good for its object, which is always a pleasant ob- 
ject ; and it is encouraged in its attempts, by the 
possibility or probability of attainment. These two 
circumstances united, more than compensate for the 
degree of restlessness it in general occasions. The 
sportsman who delights in the chase, who endures 
cold, hunger, and fatigue, with more than patience, 
inspired by the hopes of exercising his skill, and 
carrying home the triumphant, though trifling, re- 
ward of his assiduity, is a just emblem of the state 
of our minds, in the pursuit of objects we deem of 
superior importance. Desires are not only comfort- 
less, but approach to misery, — when they are impe- 
tuous and ungovernable, — when hopes are frequent- 
ly checked by disappointments — when patience is 
wearied out by procrastinations, — and when desires 



72 SORROW. 

are borne away by the whirlwind of turbulent pas- 
sions, which they have excited. 

The Wish, which characterises the benevolent 
heart, is of a pleasing nature. When it refers sim- 
ply to the melioration of our state, not being sup- 
ported by hope, it subsides almost as soon as it is 
formed. It is most painful, when it is excited by our 
own improper conduct, or by the neglect of advan- 
tages which are never to return. 



ORDER IL 

We proceed to consider those Passions and Affec- 
tions operating upon the Principle of Self-Love, in 
which the idea of Evil is immediately present to 
the mind. 

These are distinguished into three kinds : the first 
relates to actual losses and disappointments ; the se- 
cond, to evils of which we are apprehensive ; and 
the third, to the conduct which seems to deserve 
reprehension. They inspire the passions of Sorrow, 
Fear, and Anger, with their different modifications 
and combinations. 

It is obvious from this general description of each, 
that they must be frequently blended together. 
Partial evils inspiring Sorrow, are frequently the 
harbingers of others which alarm our Fears ; and 
both the evils we lament, and those we dread, may 
be occasioned by a conduct calculated to excite our 
Anger. In consequence of such combinations, ma- 
ny of the affections under this class become so com- 
plicated, as to render it difficult to give them a spe- 
cific arrangement. 

Those which are the least complex demand Our 
first attention. 



SORROW. <3 

ei I. SORROW, 

v 

1 It is scarcely necessary to observe, that Sorrow is 
the direct opposite of Joy. It expresses a mental 
suffering, under the privation of some good which 
we actually possessed, or concerning which we en- 
tertained a pleasing expectation. The one we term 
Loss, the other a Disappointment. When the loss 
or disappointment has been very great, and we feel 
it as a privation of something upon which our af- 
fections were strongly placed ; when the event arri- 
ved in a sudden and Unexpected manner, so that the 
mind was not able to collect itself or prepare for it, 
this passion produces extreme anguish. Surprise, 
Wonder, and Astonishment, exert their powerful in- 
fluence, and greatly augment the pangs of sorrow. 
The senses are troubled ; the soul is overwhelmed, 
and sometimes sinks into a painful stupefaction. 
This state marks the Passion of Sorrow, according 
to the distinctions noticed in the preceding pages ; 
for it is here that the mind is perfectly passive. 
As soon as it is able to collect its powers, it wanders 
over, and exaggerates every distressingcircumstance, 
every possible disadvantage that may be consequent 
upon the loss, until tumultuous emotions are excit- 
ed, bordering upon phrensy. Violent agitations, 
and restless positions of the body, extension of the 
arms, clapping of the hands, beating the breast, 
tearing the hair, loud sobs and sighs, manifest to 
the spectator the inward agony of the soul. Such 
are the Emotions, which indicate the nature and 
strength of the Passion. Sometimes a flood of tears 
relieves these pathognomonic, symptoms. Univer- 
sal lassitude and a sense of debility succeed, with 
deep dejection of countenance, and languor in the 
eyes, which seem to look around, and solicit in vain 
for assistance and relief. Every thing, which used 
to communicate pleasure and inspire vivacity, ap- 
pears frivolous, or becomes indifferent to the mind. 

7 



74 ' SORROW. 

The only delight which is now enjoyed, is to cc ? ^ 
template the cause of its affliction ; to enumera 
all the excellencies and advantages of that whio 
was once possessed, or might have been possessed 
and fondly to dwell upon each. Thus the Emotions 
gradually sink into permanent Affections, 

Grief is sometimes considered as synonymous with 
Sorrow ; and in this case we speak of the transports 
of grief. At other times it expresses more silent, 
deep, and painful affections ; such as are inspired 
by domestic calamities ; particularly by the loss of 
friends and relatives ; or by the distress, either of 
body or mind, experienced by those whom we love 
and value. 

When the mind is very deeply impressed with a 
sense of calamity, for a continuance, and the atten- 
tion cannot by any means be diverted from it, the 
subject is in a state of Melancholy. 

This affection manifests itself by dejection of spi- 
rits, debility of mind and body, obstinate and insu- 
perable love of solitude, universal apathy, and a 
confirmed listlessness, which emaciate the corporeal 
system, and not unfrequently trouble the brain. 

It is a striking characteristic of deep Sorrow that 
it is of a tacit and uncommunicative nature. In 
this also it is the opposite to Joy. After the violent 
effusions of the mind, in the first emotions, it sub- 
sides into a pensive and reserved state. It attempts 
concealment, even from the bosom of a friend ; like 
Viola in Shakspeare, 

Who never told her love : 
But let concealment, like a worm in the bud, 
Feed on her damask cheek. 

This disposition may proceed from some peculiar 
delicacy in the cause of grief, — from that indolence, 
which is the reverse both of the vivacity and loqua- 
city of joy, — from the apprehension that the many 
will not sympathize with the sufferer, — and from a 
reluctance to afflict the few that will. 



SORROW. 75 

The above remarks refer to Sorrow, when it is 
excited by more simple causes, and is unconnected 
with any other affection ; but it is very frequently 
blended with other affections, by means of which it 
is greatly diversified. Sometimes it assumes the 
appearance of discontent and dissatisfaction. The 
first is mostly inspired by a comparison of our situ- 
ation with that of others, and the discovery of an 
humiliating inferiority. The other principally re- 
fers to the disappointment of our desires, or to a 
partial and imperfect accomplishment of our ardent 
wishes. In disappointments, where the affections 
have been strongly placed, and the expectations 
sanguine, particularly where the agency of others 
is concerned, sorrow may degenerate into Vexation 
and Chagrin ; which are still higher degrees of dis- 
satisfaction. They all imply an irritated, as well as 
sorrowful state of mind. 

Impatience, is also a mixture of Sorrow and An- 
ger, under the immediate sensation of something 
irksome ; or at the causes of delay, where any desi- 
rable object is an expectancy. 

Repining, is Sorrow united with a degree of re- 
sentment against some superior agent, where the 
mind dares not to break forth into strong expres- 
sions of anger. 

Sympathetic Sorrow, is that species of sorrow we 
participate with others, in consequence of our so- 
cial connexions, or the general benevolence of our 
natures. This will be more amply considered here- 
after. 

Of the virtuous affections inspired by Sorrow, 
which are personal, the most conspicuous are, Pa- 
tience, Resignation, and Humility. These by their 
habitual influence often form the disposition and 
character. 

In the exercise of Patience, the mind has wisely 
determined to render the evil as light as possible, 
by counteracting the usual effects of sorrow or vex- 
ation. It endures actual sufferings with composure, 



76 SORROW. 

or waits for expected blessings, without a culpable 
restlessness. In short, patience is a calm acquies- 
cence in a state of which we perceive the evils and 
discomfiture ; by this it is sufficiently distinguished 
from insensibility. 

Resignation, superadds to patience a submissive 
disposition, respecting the intelligent cause of our 
uneasiness. It acknowledges both the power and 
the right of a superior to afflict. It is usually con- 
nected with a confidence in his justice ; and it in- 
dulges a hope also in some future exemption. Thus 
it opposes a fretful repining temper of mind. 

Humility, is a degree of habitual sorrow, or of 
painful apprehension, — by which it is connected 
with fear, — concerning our deficiencies in intellec- 
tual or moral attainments. It is inspired either by 
comparing ourselves with others, who appear to be 
our superior in these excellencies ; or by the con- 
templation of their intrinsic value, importance, ex- 
tent, and the obstacles which we have suffered to 
impede our progress. (See Note N.) 

We have considered the principal cause of Sor- 
row to the privation ; because the loss of some good 
is, in most instances, the prevalent idea. Pecuniary 
losses, the loss of relatives and friends, of their good- 
will and affection, are obvious privations. Sickness 
is the privation of health ; imprisonment the priva- 
tion of liberty ; and the hardships endured in prison, 
the privation of accustomed indigencies; calumny 
and disgrace are the privations of a good charac- 
ter. Yet it is acknowledged, that being in the habit 
of considering these things as essential to comfort 
and happiness, we view this privation in a positive 
light ; and if we attend simply to the effects, the idea 
is doubtless pertinent ; for all misery, whatever be 
the cause, is a positive sensation. In bodily pains 
or corporal sufferings, the evil endured is uniformly 
considered as of a positive nature ; nor does the 
idea of a Loss present itself to the mind. It would 
be an affectation of philosophic precision, to consid- 



FEAR. 77 

er the agonies of the torture as a privation of former 
ease. Perhaps the reason of this distinction is found- 
ed in our claiming an exemption from pain, as our 
natural and only inheritance. Every thing besides 
is an acquisition, either as a gift, or the purchase of 
our own labour. The following peculiarity confirms 
this idea ; the term Sorrow cannot with any pro- 
priety be applied to our bodily sufferings. We 
should smile at any one, who asserted that he was 
sorry because he had a fit of the gout, or suffered a 
public flagellation ; though, in fact, the body cannot 
suffer without the participation of the mind. Hence 
it appears that the prevalent cause of Sorrow is pri- 
vation, though the effects are positive misery. 

II. FEAR. 

The second effect produced by the hatred of Evil, 
that we shall mention, is Fear. 

Fear is a painful sensation, produced by the imme- 
diate apprehension of some impending Evil. This 
evil may consist in being deprived of what we at 
present enjoy, in being disappointed in what we had 
expected, or in the infliction of a positive misery. 

The passion of Fear is still more painful than that 
of Sorrow, which notwithstanding its severity has r 
when calmed into an affection, something soothing in 
its nature. Fear produces an agony and anxiety 
about the heart, not to be described ; and it may be 
said to paralyze the soul in such a manner, as to ren- 
der it insensible to every thing but to its own misery. 
Inertness and torpor pervade the whole system, uni- 
ted with a constriction of the integuments of the bo- 
dy, and also a certain sense of being fettered, or of 
being rendered incapable of motion. The eyes are 
pallid, wild, and sunk in their sockets ; the counte- 
nance is contracted and wan ; the hair stands erect, 
or at least this sensation is excited, which every 
child experiences, as often as he is terrified by sto- 
ries of ghosts, witches, &c. ; the bowels are strong- 
7* 



FEAR. 

\y affected, the heart palpitate aion labo 

the lips tremble, the tongue falters, the limbs arc 
unable to obey the will, or support the frame. 
Preadful shrieks denote the inward anguish. Tl 

often succeeded by syncopic-?, which, while they 
manifest that the sufferings are greater than nature 
can sustain, afford a temporary reli 

Such are the external signs which indicate the 
wretched state of mind, under this horrid passion. 
Since torpor, debility, and painful constrictions, fre- 
quently accompany fear more than any other pas- 
sion, the Emotions will of consequence be less vivid. 
Instead of violent transports, a deep depression and 
numbness, as it were, both 01 body and mind, cha- 
racterize the passion. These may be visible to the 
attentive spectator, and are not less expressive of 
inward anguish. 

When the effects of fear operate powerfully, 
without any mixture of h le passive impres- 

sions arc predominant: but when there is a possi- 
bility ol escape, the mind re-acts with wonderful 
energy. Abject depression is changed into vie 
agitations ; collected force takes place of debility, 
and tremendous exertions succeed to a state of tor- 
por and immobility. When a personal attack is ap- 
prehended, momentary and trembling strength is 
thrown into the muscles : — the body instinctively 
places itself in the attitude of defence : — a mixture 
of fierceness and wild horror is expressed in the 
countenance, well adapted to alarm aud terrify 
the enemy. If escape be attempted, an unusual 
energy is thrown into the limbs, enabling the sufferer 
to precipitate his flight, by exertions that would have 
been impracticable in a more composed state of 
mind. 

Consternation. This species of fear is a strong 
foreboding of tremendous evils, which are likely to 
follow misfortunes that have already taken place. 
It may sieze an Individual, when surprised by the 
arrival of some dreadful disaster : or at the instant 



PEAR. 79 

of his being made acquainted with the event. But 
it chiefly refers to alarms of a more extensive nature \ 
to those excited by some general calamity, which 
threatens evils beyond the power of calculation. 
Earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, inundations, con- 
flagrations, the sudden approach of an incensed and 
powerful enemy, are of this kind. Here the danger 
is widely diffused. Fear is rendered contagious ; 
and by the influence of social sympathy, the Conster- 
nation becomes universal, without having any parti- 
cular tendency, or being directed to any particular 
object. When calamities of this nature arrive in a 
sudden and unexpected manner ; particularly where 
the ideas of perfect security had been indulged, and 
perhaps were triumphant and insulting ; Surprise, 
Wonder, Astonishment, manifest their powers, by 
the augmentation of misery ; while a troubled ima- 
gination aggravates every possibility of horror. In 
all these cases, the expressions of fear are wild and 
frantic. Beating the breast, tearing the hair, loud 
lamentations, indicate the agony of the soul. 

Perhaps the panic which has sometimes seized a 
whole army, flushed with victory, will illustrate the 
preceding observations. Rapid success had inspi- 
red the arrogant idea of invincibility. An unexpect- 
ed defeat has not only subdued this delusion, but 
given an opposite direction to the active imagina- 
tion, and has transferred the idea of invincibility to 
the Enemy. The troops now think that it will be 
in vain, any longer to resist a power which has shown 
itself superior to their own wonted prowess ; and 
where resistance is supposed to be absolutely in 
vain, it never will be attempted. The force of su- 
perstition, either in depressing or animating courage, 
is well known. This has made the most valiant: 
tremble at shadows ; and consecrated banners have 
secured victory over an host of enemies. Even the 
war-like Achilles, who was the bulwark of the Gre- 
cian cause, and whose sole delight was in the tu- 



$0 FEAR. 

mults of war, trembled at the sudden appearance of 
Minerva.* 

Abject fear, which is accompanied by the more si- 
lent symptoms of depressed spirits, seems to be in- 
spired chiefly by the idea of an irresistible power in 
its cause. This also is the faithful companion of 
Superstition.. It is easily excited in feeble minds by 
every tale of horror. It is very observable in those 
wiio are led into captivity, or to prison ; in those de- 
tected in the commission of a crime, which exposes 
them to the severity of the law ; in those who are 
under the expectation of immediate punishment : 
that is, in cases which admit of no escape or redress. 

Terror is that species of fear, which rouses to de- 
fend or escape ; producing the violent agitations 
which have been already noticed. 

So painful is the passion of Fear, that the evil can 
scarcely exist, which induces anguish equal to its 
feelings. Innumerable are the instances in which 
the fear of a calamity of the greatest magnitude, has 
greatly exceeded the miseries inflicted by the cala- 
mity itself; and the mind has resumed a tranquillity 
under misfortunes, which, in the prospect, appeared 
unsupportable. Busy imagination always magnifies 
the evil, and casts the darkest shades over every pos- 
sible concomitant. It cannot indulge the supposi- 
tion, that any circumstances of alleviation can be at- 
tached to a state so much dreaded. But when the 
dreaded evil is arrived, an immediate release from 
the agonies of fear, is of itself a species of consolation. 
In the worst of circumstances, fear yields its place 
to sorrow ; which is certainly some mitigation of 
suffering *.: — habit reconciles to many things, which 
were at first repugnant to our nature : — experience 
in a short time points out many comforts, where they 
were least expected : in most cases, as soon as we 
cease to fear, we begin to hope ; for there are few 
situations so completely dark and gloomy, as to ex- 
clude every ray of consolatory hope. 
* ©»i^s^fv F A%i?&£vs» See Homer. Iliad. A. 1. 199. 



FEAR. 81 

The union of such causes sufficiently explains 
the reasons why, in numberless instances, the ago- 
ny of actual sufferings, is not so great as the dread 
of their arrival. (See Note O.) 

The Affections, that is, the more permanent im- 
pressions of fear, unaccompanied with external signs 
to characterize emotions, are principally the fol- 
lowing : 

Dread, This is a degree of permanent fear ; an 
habitual and painful apprehension of some tremen- 
dous event, which may be too remote to excite any 
of the preceding passions. It keeps the mind in a 
perpetual alarm ; in an eager watchfulness of every 
circumstance which bears any relation to the evil 
apprehended. 

It is obvious, that this strong and painful affec- 
tion cannot be the result, or the residue of fear, in 
the same manner as satisfaction may be the result 
of joy, and melancholy of the transports of sorrow ; 
because it is not susceptible of a retrospect. When 
the evil is arrived, the dread of that evil is removed ; 
though the affection may become attached to some 
pernicious consequences, which may possibly fol- 
low. (See Note P.) 

Despair. This is a permanent fear of losing 
some valuable good, of suffering some dreadful evil, 
or of remaining in a state of actual misery, without 
any mixture of hope. It generally succeeds to in- 
effectual efforts, which have been repeatedly made ; 
and of consequence it is excited where no means 
can be devised, equal to the magnitude of the sup- 
posed evil. 

Remorse has already been placed under Sorrow : 
but whenever it is connected with a fear of pun- 
ishment, it deserves a place under this passion also, 
which greatly increases its agonies. When Re- 
morse is blended with the fear of punishment, and 
arises to despair, it constitutes the supreme wretch- 
edness of the mind. 

Cowardice, considered as distinct from the oc- 



82 TEAR. 

casional panic mentioned above, is that habftual 
temper and disposition, which disqualifies from 
opposing the dangers and difficulties, which it is 
our duty or interest to combat. Every indication 
of cowardice, is an indication of culpable and un- 
manly fear. 

Pusillanimity is a feebleness of mind, still more 
disgraceful ; by which it is terrified at mere trifles, 
or imaginary dangers, unauthorized by the most 
distant probability. 

Timidity, though similar, is not so reproachful. 
The term is chiefly used where there is some 
apology, from sex, tender years, or feebleness of 
frame. 

Doubt, considered as an affection, and distin- 
guished from simple deliberation of the mind, is a 
comfortless state, occasioned by the uncertainty of 
an event, and the predominancy of fearful appre- 
hension concerning it, though a degree of hope is 
still indulged. (See Note Q.) 

Irresolution represents the mind as fluctuating 
between hope and fear ; between fits of courage 
and painful apprehensions, in cases where it ought 
to determine. It is suspended between probabili- 
ties of success, and apparent dangers of disappoint- 
ment. 

Shame is a painful sensation, occasioned by the 
quick apprehension, that reputation and character 
are in danger ; or by the perception that they are 
lost. It may arise from the immediate detection, 
or the fear of detection, in something ignominious. 
It may also arise from native diffidence in young 
ingenious minds, when surprised into situations 
where they attract the peculiar attention of their 
superiors. In the first instance, the glow of Shame 
indicates, that the mind is not totally abandoned ; 
in the last, it manifests a nice sense of honour, and 
delicate feelings, united with inexperience and 
ignorance of the world. 

Modesty may be deemed an habitual solicitude 



ANGER. 83 

not to offend against any species of decorum ; either 
by unsuitable behaviour, in which it is opposed to 
indelicacy ; or by too exalted an opinion of our 
own good qualities, in which it is opposed to vani- 
ty. It sometimes manifests itself by resenting in- 
decencies in speech or conduct ; in this case it is 
united with anger. 

Fortitude, Courage, Intrepidity, are affections 
and dispositions opposed to fear. They are virtu- 
ous affections, excited alone by exposure to those 
evils, which are usually productive of that emotion, 
and therefore they deserve to be mentioned in this 
connexion. 

Fortitude expresses that firmness of mind, which 
resists dangers and sufferings. It is founded on a 
resolution of the will to counteract, or to surmount 
those cowardly impressions, which terrific objects 
will infallibly make upon inferior minds. It is se- 
cretly supported by hope, and greatly invigorated 
by some portion of the angry affections. 

Courage is active fortitude. It meets dangers, 
and attempts to repel them. 

Intrepidity, according to its etymology, proceeds 
yet farther: it expresses a courage perfectly un- 
daunted, a superiority to the very sensation of fear; 
boldly impelling the mind forwards to meet the 
greatest dangers to which a sense of obligation may 
expose it. 

III. ANGER. 

This is the third strong effect produced by the 
immediate perception of evil. 

Anger has been considered as a passion, direct- 
ed against the real, or supposed cause, of our dan- 
ger or our sufferings. In the first transport of the 
passion, a sense of personal evil, unjustly inflicted, 
is the primary idea ; and thus from the effect, the 
mind makes an instantaneous and powerful transi- 
tion to its cause. The primary idea entitles it to 



84 ANGER, 

a place among the passions excited by Self-love ; 
but many of the effects derived from it properly 
belong to the social affections, and constitute no 
small portion of Malevolence and Displacency. 
The passions of Sorrow or of Fear, do not imme- 
diately or necessarily, direct the attention to their 
cause so as to have an influence upon their specific 
characters ; that of anger does. Thus it becomes, 
as it were, the connecting medium between our- 
selves and others ; exciting painful and irritating 
sensations, which relate to both. We shall there- 
fore consider, in this place, the general nature of 
the passion, as excited in consequence of a keen 
sense of personal injuries, without paying particu- 
lar attention to its objective cause; and refer its in- 
fluence over the social affections to the Order as- 
signed to them. 

Anger is the strong passion or emotion, impressed 
or excited by a sense of injury received, or in con- 
templation ; that is, by the idea of something of a 
pernicious nature and tendency being done or in- 
tended, in violation of some supposed obligation to 
a contrary conduct. It is enkindled by the percep- 
tion of an undue privation of that to which we 
thought ourselves, in some degree or other, entitled ; 
or of a positive suffering, from which we claimed an 
exemption. These are obviously the exciting caus- 
es ; though our ignorance, or inordinate Self-Love, 
may suggest erroneous ideas respecting our claims, or 
render the resentful emotion very disproportionate 
to the offence. The pain we suffer from the injury, 
the unexpectedness of the offence, our wounded 
pride, &c. are so apt to disturb our reasoning and 
discriminating powers, thatwe are, at the firstinstant, 
prompted to consider every injury received, as an 
injury intended. Nor are there wanting numerous 
instances, in which an heated and irritated imagina- 
tion attributes design to the irrational and inanimate 
creation, in order to gratify the passion of resentment. 



AXGER. 85 

Anger, viewed as a Passion, that is, as referring to 
the first impression in which we are passive, — or the 
impression preceding the external signs, which con- 
stitute the Emotion, — may be considered as a pain« 
mi sensation of a heating and irritating nature. It 
is an irksome stimulus, by which the animal spirits 
are troubled and violently agitated. Yet the sen- 
sation is not so painful as in the excesses of Sorrow 
or of Fear. When the injury appears great, totally 
unprovoked, too recent or sudden for the mind to 
call up motives of restraint, — when surprise at re- 
ceiving an offence from a quarter the most remote 
from expectation, — or astonishment at base and un- 
grateful returns for benefits conferred, accompany 
the first impulse of passion, and ardent desire of re- 
venge is immediately excited. The imagination 
runs over every circumstance of aggravation ; de- 
picts the offence as a crime of the most atrocious 
nature ; and vengeance is denounced against the 
aggressor, as an indispensable obligation of justice, 
and as a retribution due to the violated laws of mo- 
rals, of honour, or of gratitude. The emotions stri- 
kingly correspond with this state of mind. The 
corporeal system immediately assumes attitudes and 
appearances, calculated to inspire the offender with 
terror, and preparatory to the infliction of the chas- 
tisement, he is supposed to have deserved. The 
countenance reddens, the eyes flash indignant fire, 
and the aspect speaks horror; muscular strength is 
abundantly increased ; and powers of exertion are 
acquired, unknown to cooler moments. This new 
appetite for revenge gains the ascendancy, not on- 
ly over every consideration of compassion, but of 
personal safety, and impels to dangerous encounters, 
totally regardless of the danger. In some instances, 
an apprehension of dreadful consequences, a kind of 
presage of the mischief which may possibly ensue, 
and become the subject of future regret, intermix- 
es fear with the paroxysms of anger ; and a pallid 



86 ANGER. 

tremour unites with symptoms peculiar to wrath, or 
accompanies the first tokens of revenge. 

Anger is deservedly placed among the most vio- 
lent emotions. From its ungovernable excesses, it 
has almost appropriated to itself the term passion. 
When the paroxysms of anger are excessive, the 
subject is deaf to the most cogent reasons, or to the 
most pathetic representations of the mischief it may 
occasion ; and being worked up to a degree of phren- 
sy, he fully vindicates the adage, Ira brevis furor. 
While he is under the influence of this turbulent 
emotion, the incensed person often imagines that he 
is solely actuated by the purest love of equity, and 
an ardent desire to administer justice ; though, at the 
instant, he may be violating the dictates of compas- 
sion, in the perpetration of the most atrocious deeds. 

It is observable, that Sorrow and Fear, though 
they may be the result of culpable conduct, or even 
of criminality, are calculated to excite our compas- 
sion. The anguish manifested by the subject, calls 
aloud for our sympathy. But Anger, though it is a 
painful emotion, seldom excites our sympathy with 
the object himself, unless we suppose him to be in- 
sane. In most cases our sympathy is chiefly trans- 
ferred to the object of resentment ; prompting us to 
act as mediators, and to exert all our influence in 
order to mitigate or avert the punishment to which 
he is exposed. 

Anger, in the excess of its violence, when it is ex- 
cited to a degree of phrensy, so that the mind has 
totally lost self-command ; when it prompts to threats 
and actions extravagant and atrocious, is termed 
Rage. 

Wrath is violent and permanent anger ; and as 
such it may be deemed an affection. This may be 
seated in a breast possessing too much self-command 
to will the infliction of punishment, though it noti- 
ces and dwells upon every circumstance of aggra- 
vation ; and though it should resolve to punish, it is 



ANGER. 87 

capable of being appeased by the concessions and 
penitence of the offender. 

Resentment is a lesser degree of wrath, excited by 
smaller offences, or by offences committed against 
less irritabie minds. It is a deep reflective displea- 
sure against the conduct of 'he offender. 

Indignation is a resentment against a conduct which 
appears peculiarly unworthy ; some atrocious viola- 
tion of the principles of gratitude, or something which 
appears peculiarly despicable and base. 

But we are now trespassing upon the affections 
winch properly belong to another Class, and which 
will demand our attention under the article of Dis- 
placency. 

Anger, and its principal ramifications are general- 
ly directed under the conduct of others, and al-e^p-V-v> 
most universally with superior degrees of violence; 
however they are sometimes directed against our- 
selves, when our conduct has been either negligent 
or criminal. Tn Repentance, Contrition and i?e- 
morse, Self-reproach, and even Indignation are 
largely intermixed with the affection of Sorrow. 

Vexation, Chagrin, Impatience, do not relate to 
Persons so much as to particular circumstances of 
a teazing nature. They are chiefly excited by dis- 
appointments, and tedious delays to the accomplish- 
ment of our wishes. 

Peevishness may be considered as a slighter de- 
gree of anger, perpetually recurring to irritable 
persons, from trifling causes. It is such a soreness 
of temper, that it can scarcely suffer the touch of 
the gentlest hand ; and it resents upon the most 
innocent, the vexations that have been excited by 
causes with which they had no concern. 

Although Fortitude, Courage, Intrepidity, have 
been considered under the article of Fear, as they 
are virtuous resolutions which oppose themselves to 
the objects of our fear, or to the dangers which 
threaten us ; yet tney n-nght with no great impro- 
priety have been placed under the passion of Anger. 



38 ANGER. 

If we advert to the physiological, or rather patho- 
logical effects of anger, we shall perceive that it 
rouses the mind, increases muscular strength, braces 
the system for action, and renders the subject heed- 
less of danger : and these are the effects produced 
hy Fortitude and Courage. Though that strong ir- 
ritation of mind peculiar to anger, may not be sen- 
sibly felt by generous spirits, and self command may 
calm the agitations natural to this passion, as 
well as those peculiar to terror, yet some modi- 
fications of it obviously remain. Where courage 
is merely instinctive, it is manifestly quickened by 
anger ; although cultivation and noble principles 
may suppress the appearance, and almost the sen- 
sations, in minds endowed with the virtues of forti- 
tude and magnanimity. 

It may perhaps be asserted with justice, that 
some degree of anger is naturally excited by every 
object of hatred. Though Privation or Danger be 
the predominant ideas in Sorrow or Fear, yet these 
are mostly, it may be said, always, accompanied 
with a sense of injury, in minds not influenced by 
moral restraints. In sorrows inflicted by a Power 
against which we dare not to murmur, the irrita- 
tions natural to a wounded mind, may be subjugat- 
ed by motives of virtue and piety ; but without 
these it would be strongly disposed to burst forth 
into frantic and impotent rage. This may be ex- 
plained by the strength and quickness of our painful 
feelings, which at the first instant, dispose us to im- 
pute blame where no blame can be attached. His- 
tory makes us acquainted with many curious instan- 
ces in the heathen world, where the images of the 
deities worshipped have been very roughly treated, 
and even suffered public flagellation, for not having 
averted the calamities which had been deprecated ; 
and the repinings of those who have been better in- 
structed, manifest a similar temper, though it may be 
checked by reverential awe. 

It is an indication of no inconsiderable progress 



ANGER. 89 

in reason and in resolution, always to distinguish, 
with accuracy, between an evil endured and its in- 
culpable cause ; and to support the calamity without 
the least mixture of Resentment. Nor are these 
observations confined to the occasions of Sorrows ; 
in the passion of Fear, the first object being safety, 
every other consideration may be suppressed for the 
instant : but in the emotion of Terror, not only some 
degree of courage, but a very considerable portion 
of Anger is perceptible ; the rage of a coward de- 
spairing of escape by flight is proverbial. 

The most accurate distinctions, thereof, which 
we have been capable of making in the above Ana- 
lysis of the Passions, have been to mark the leading 
characteristics of each. The primary idea exciting 
Sorrow, is that of loss, or painful privation ; that of 
Fear is danger ; and the genuine idea appropriate 
to Anger is that of injury or some species of injus- 
tice. These are very distinct in themselves, though 
inordinate self-love so frequently confounds them 
together. 

We have thus endeavoured to trace the various 
Passions and Affections, which are of a personal 
nature ; and which are more immediately excited 
in consequence of the principle of Self-Love. — A 
principle seated in the breast of every individual of 
our species, from the most ignorant to the most in- 
telligent ; from the capricious infant to the subli- 
mest philosopher. All who are able to discern, or 
who think that they discern, things conducive to their 
happiness or enjoyment, are occasionally placed 
in situations which expose them to the influence 
of one or other of the above Passions, Emotions, 
and Affections, in their individual capacities. 

The Passions and Affections, which belong to the 
social Principle, next demand our attention. 



90 Social principle. 



CLASS II. 

ON THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS, DERIVED FROM 
THE SOCIAL PRINCIPLE. 

If our connexions with the inanimate creation, 
exposed us to be differently influenced by various 
powers and properties, discernible in every part of 
it ; if many things around us call forth our passions 
and affections, by sustaining certain relations with 
our corporeal and intellectual natures, is to be ex- 
pected that a still more intimate connexion with 
the animated creation, should implant within U3 
various dispositions, correspondent to those higher 
qualities and properties belonging to it. The ani- 
mated beings around us, not only excite certain Pas- 
sions and Affections arising from the principle of 
Self-love, in common with other parts of nature, 
but they also are rendered capable of enjoying or of 
suffering, equally with ourselves ; and we possess 
the power of administering to their well-being, or 
of proving injurious to it. 

Rational and intelligent agents, being furnished 
with certain rules of conduct, which respect both 
themselves and others, are subjected to various de- 
grees of approbation or censure, according as they 
act comformably to such ruies, or in violation of 
them. 

These peculiarities introduce a train of Passions 
and affections, very distinct from those which are 
excited by the selfish principle alone. Self-love 
confines its attentions to certain qualities and pro- 
perties, merely as they have an influence upon our 
own personal welfare ; and we deem these qualities 
good or bad, solely as they produce certain effects 
upon Ourselves. The social Principle extends its 
regards to the state, the conduct, and the character 
of Others ; and it operates, according to the degrees 



SOCIAL PRINCIPLE, 91 

of their connexion with us, — to their powers of 
communicating or of receiving from us either good 
or evil. — to their actual enjoyments or their suffer- 
ings. — to their prospects of future good or exposure 
to evil. — to their occasional or habitual deportment, 
— and to the degrees of merit or dement attached 
to their dispositions and conduct, as conscious and 
intelligent agents. 

Numberless are the Passions. Emotions, and 
Affections proceeding from these different causes : 
and they vary m their complexion and character, 
according to the peculiarities of their excitements. 
Yet they are all reducible to the two grand distinc- 
tions which have been already pointed out. They 
may be placed under the Cardinal Affections of 
i and Hatred, in which Good or Evil are the 
predominant ideas. Not can there be a disposition 
in the class of objects now under consideration, or 
of ourselves towards them, which may not, in one 
point of view or other, be ranged under these 
general head 

It is obvious that these affections of Love and 
Hatred, primarily relate either to the Persons or 
to the Characters of their objects. The Good 
refers to that which we behoid in ihem, or wish 
them to possess ; and the Evil to the supposed de- 
pravity of their characters, or the malevolence of 
disposition we may entertain towards them. The 
predominant ideas therefore of good and evil 
respect these alone. The affections of Love and 
Hatred are excited, by the immediate interest we 
take in the merits or the welfare of the objects. 
or by the personal resentments indulged against 
them. 

No one general term is adapted to all those 
passions and affections, which belong to the social 
principle. Dr. Hartley, however, has comprehend- 
ed them all under the name or character of Sym- 
pathy, This he divides into four Classes : rejoic- 
ing at another's happiness : grieving at his misery : 



92 SOCIAL PRINCIPLE. 

grieving at his happiness ; and rejoicing at his 
misery. But the word sympathy, whether we 
advert to its genuine import or common usage, is 
ill adapted to the two last divisions. The usual 
idea of sympathy is that of suffering icith another : 
which is the most opposite possible to grieving at 
his happiness, or rejoicing at his misery: the last is 
not suffering, and the other is suffering in a manner 
directly contrary. 

These two opposite dispositions are usually ex- 
pressed by the opposite terms Benevolence and 
Malevolence ; the first referring to kindly dispositions 
towards its objects, and the other to the reverse. 
But should they be the best terms we are able to 
employ, yet they are not entirely unexceptionable j 
as they do not always convey ideas perfectly corres- 
pondent with the various differences comprised un- 
der these general heads. 

Benevolence, signifying good will, might, accord- 
ing to its etymology, be considered as applicable to 
Ourselves as well as to others: yet in its usual ac- 
ceptation the idea of Self is totally excluded : and 
it expresses a disposition directly opposite to the 
selfish Principle — This good-will does not indicate 
itself in all those affections which are ranged under 
Benevolence. Some characters inspire us with the 
deepest reverence and awe : which affections, though 
they do not exclude benevolence, are not immedi- 
ately inspired by it. Notwithstanding these slight 
objections, the word appears to be more deserving of 
being employed, as a generic term, than any other 
that can be adopted. 

Were we more familiarized to the signification 
given to the term Passion, in our introductory 
Chapter : were it confined to the idea of Passive- 
ness. whether the cause be of a pleasing or displeas- 
ing nature, then might we with the strictest pro- 
priety use the term Sympathy to express a fellov:- 
feeling with another, both upon joyful and mourn- 
ful occasions. It would be applicable to every 



SOCIAL PRINCIPLE. 93 

coincidence of sensation, sentiment, and disposi- 
tion, comprehending our good wishes, good opi- 
nions, and that benignity which rejoices in their pros- 
perity. 

But even in this case. Sympathy can only be ap- 
plied to incidental indications of benevolence, and is- 
not to be substituted for the word itself. It will have 
the same relation to the benevolent Principle as 
Dfsire has to that of Love, The Principle of be- 
nevolence predisposes to these social virtues, and 
Sympathy engages in particular acts of benevolence. 
To this sense its etymology necessarily confines it; 
for we can neither suffer with another, nor have any 
kind of sensation in common with him. until he be 
placed in certain situations, with which we are be- 
come acquainted. 

There are much stronger objections to the word 
Malevolence, as a generic term, than to the preced- 
ing. It always conveys the idea of ill-will to a con- 
siderable degree : but hourly instances of displa- 
cency. and even of anger and resentment, present 
themselves without any mixture of that ill-will it 
describes. In some cases, painful resentments may 
be excited by the purest good-will ; as in the anger 
of a parent towards his child, on account of con- 
duct prejudicial to his welfare. Even the momen- 
tary ill-wili indulged by a passionate man, seeking 
revenge for injuries received, deserves not to be 
stigmatized by the odious name of malevolence, 
which conveys the idea of permanent ill-will. 

For the above reasons, aud from a reluctance to 
use a term so unfavourable in its complexion and 
character, more frequently than absolute necessity 
demands, I beg leave to substitute Displacency as 
a s;eneric term. Its superior propriety will be man- 
ifest from the consideration, that every instance of 
malevolence is an indication of Displacency to a high 
degree, although the latter is not at all times an in- 
dication of the former, 



94 SOCIAL AFFECTIONS. 

The reader wili not be disposed to censure as su- 
perfluous these minute investigations respecting the 
signification of terms, when he recollects that the 
want of precision has been the grand source of con- 
fusion of ideas, even among philosophers. The 
least difference in our conceptions, respecting the 
force of words, may direct to very different conclu- 
sions. The smallest deviation from the requisite 
point of the compass, will in a short time steer the 
vessel into an improper latitude. 

In the prosecution of our Analysis under this Se- 
cond class, or in tracing the passions and affections 
which belong to the social Principle, I shall, accor- 
ding to the plan proposed, divide the subject into 
two Orders ; the first belonging to the principle of 
Benevolence, in which the idea of Good is the moire 
immediate and predominant idea ; and the second 
to Displacency, in which the idea of Evil prevails. 

The benevolent Pri nciple may refer to good Desires 
and Dispositions, and to good Opinions : which form 
two distinct kinds or genera. Displacency may also 
be divided into two kinds, Malevolence, properly so 
called ; and disfavourable Opinion or Displacency, 
according to its usual signification* 



ORDER I. 

PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS EXCITED BY BENEVO- 
LENCE, IN WHICH GOOD IS THE PREDOMINANT 
IDEA. 

I. Those which respect Benevolent Desires and 
Dispositions. 

In our general remarks concerning Love as a Prin- 
ciple, we inevitably anticipated some things which 
properly belong to this branch of our Subject. It 
was then hinted, that our benevolent dispositions 
may be directed towards those who are connected 



SOCIAL AFFECTIONS. 95 

with us, in various degrees of relation or intimacy ; 
— to the whole human race indiscriminately, in 
which it is termed Philanthropy ; and to all Beings 
rendered capable of any portion of enjoyment ; or 
universal benevolence, according to the most extensive 
sense of the expression. 

It will not be necessary, in the process of our in- 
vestigation, to have tne distinction between the ra* 
tional and irrational creation, always in our view. 
The dispositions towards each are similar ; though 
rational Beings, from their superior importance, are 
the most interesting, and the diversity of their situ- 
ations admits of a greater variety of correspondent 
affections. Both may be comprehended under the 
title of general benevolence 

It will however be proper to remark, that the be- 
nevolence which respects oar most intimate connex- 
ions, approximates very closely to the principle of 
Self-love, It considers every thing belonging to its 
immediate objects, as belonging also to ourselves, 
and thus constitutes one common interest. Of this 
kind are all those connexions which form the inti- 
mate relations of life, and create so large a portion 
of its happiness or its misery. Such are the conju- 
gal, parental, filial, fraternal relations, various de- 
grees of consanguinity, and particular friendships. 
Here the habitual attachments, and benignant dispo- 
sitions which the mind experiences, assume the cha- 
racter of affections^ by way of pre-eminence. For 
it is in these relations that the kindly affections mani- 
fest the greatest warmth and constancy. The ge- 
neral objects of our philanthropy may possess a 
portion of our good-will without particular interest 
being habitually taken in their welfare. The ope- 
ration of this principle is confined to particular cases 
and situations, in which they may be incidentally 
placed. Those animals to which we are the most 
strongly attached, or which we may have appropri- 
ated to ourselves, are considered as sustaining an oc 
easional and accidental connexion ; and when the) 



96 SOCIAL AFFECTIONS. 

are the most requisite for our use and comfort, we 
chiefly value them as the instruments and means of 
our convenience and pleasure. Their influence is 
chiefly temporary. They are transferred with little 
regret. The mind may become versatile and 
changeable towards them, without the imputation of 
cruelty or injustice. But in the social relation, the 
kindly affections dwell with the well disposed mind, 
and are perpetually operative. 

These social affections may arise from various 
causes, which gave them their distinguished charac- 
teristics ; and they may possess various degrees of 
strength ; which, in most cases, is regulated by the 
degrees of their utility. Some are deemed instinc- 
tive ; that is, originally implanted in the breast, 
without the conscious aid of reason or reflection. 
The love of parents for their offspring is adduced as 
an evidence of instinctive affection. This is observ- 
able in persons who seem to have eradicated every 
other social affection. They still retain a solicitude 
for their young, after they have rendered themselves 
strangers to every other virtue ; and indulge a fond- 
ness here, amidst the greatest animosities against 
those around them. But whatever ideas we may 
affix to the word instinct, self-love seems to form its 
basis. Parents manifestly contemplate their child- 
ren as scions from the stem : and the selfish affections 
accompany them, not only as being their appoint- 
ed representatives, but as second selves. The supe- 
rior strength of affection natural to the female 
breast, which receives a daily increase by unremit- 
ted habits of care and attention, gives the appear- 
ance of a much stronger instinct to the maternal, 
than to the paternal affections. 

Some of the social affections arise from the per- 
ception, or the persuasion of amiable qualities, per- 
sonal or mental, for which a strong predilection is 
formed ; as in the conjugal relation. This predi- 
lection having also a sexual influence, may become 
a passion, the most impetuous and ungovernable. 



SOCIAL AFFECTIONS. 97 

The sexual passion is rendered remarkable for its 
contrarieties. It ma)' be considered as the most 
generous and the most selfish ; — at once the most 
interested, and the most disinterested ; it is ready 
to sacrifice every thing, even life itself, for the be- 
loved object ; — but it is anxious to appropriate the 
beloved object entirely to itself. 

Where the impetuosity of passion is not succeed- 
ed by indifference, it gives place to the milder and 
more permanent joys of conjugal affection. 

Filial affections, if they do not originate from, are 
closely connected with an early sense of superiority, 
united with a conviction that this superiority is ex- 
ercised in perpetual cares and acts of kindness. 

Fraternal affection owes much of its strength to 
the closest habits of intimacy, the perception of one 
common interest, and an impressive sense of the in- 
estimable value of domestic harmony. 

The friendly affections are inspired by the con- 
templation of pleasing qualities, and the perception 
of a similarity in disposition. They are always 
cherished by reciprocal acts of kindness. 

All these connexions may be said to relate most 
intimately to Self. They manifest an adoption of 
others in our hearts. They blend and intermix in- 
terests so completely, that the ardent desire of good 
towards the particular objects of these affections, is 
not considered as a branch of disinterested benevo- 
lence. All the passions and affections which have 
been enumerated under the preceding Class, as pri- 
marily belonging to the selfish principle, may be ex- 
cited by the state and situation of those we love, 
with equal, and sometimes with superior vigour. 
In events incidental to them, Joy, Desire, Hope. 
Sorrow, Fear, Anger, become as quick and impetu- 
ous, as in cases where our own interests are exclu- 
sively concerned : and wherever the Universal Pa- 
rent has constituted us the agents, or the guardians 
of the good fortune of others, we enjoy the affec- 
tions of Satisfaction, Contentment, Complacency. 

9 



98 SYMPATHY. 

&c. according to the degrees of their prosperity, or f 
the value of circumstances contributing to it, as if 
this good immediately pertained to Ourselves. 

To the good-will which extends itself beyond the 
circle of personal attachments, and with which our 
own permanent welfare is not so intimately connect- 
ed, — to the good-will which is often exercised to- 
wards strangers, and which is sometimes exercised 
by generous minds towards enemies, is the title of 
Benevolence usually applied. Because it is here 
that the innate benignity of disposition appears the 
most conspicuously. In these instances of good- 
will, nothing selfish appears. The benevolence ac- 
quires the character of being pure and disinterested. 

Considering this benevolence as a Principle con- 
stituting a pre-disposition, or a readiness of temper 
to act in a manner correspondent to the particular 
situation of the object, the direct operation of this 
principle will manifest itself by emotions and affec- 
tions, to which the term Sympathy seems to be pe- 
culiarly applicable. 

According to the observations already made upon 
Sympathy, it may be considered as an inward feeling, 
which is excited by the particular and extraordinary 
situation of another ; or which harmonizes with the 
condition and feelings of its object. Sympathy in- 
dicates a mind attuned to correspondent vibrations, 
whether they be of a pleasing or displeasing kind. 
Consequently it operates with various degrees of 
strength, according to the degrees of danger to which 
its objects may be exposed ; — to the misery they 
suffer, and the aggravating circumstances attending 
it ; — to the good fortune with which they are sur- 
prised and delighted ; — and to their capacities of re- 
ceiving good. It also disposes the mind to accom- 
modate itself to the tastes, dispositions, and manners 
of others, in the social intercourses of life. 

In this enlarged sense of the term may sympathy 
be considered as a passion, an affection, and a dispo- 
sition. 



SYMPATHT. 99 

In some urgent and extraordinary cases, Sympa- 
thy rises into an emotion, which yields not in 
strength and exertions, to the most violent of the 
selfish passions. When its object is suddenly ex- 
posed to some instantaneous and tremendous dan- 
ger, which demands immediate aid, the whole soul 
is devoted to the sufferer. Danger and relief are 
the thoughts which occupy the mind, to the total 
exclusion of every other. Impelled by this irresis- 
tible emotion, the sympathizer plunges into the 
ocean and braves its billows, or rushes into the midst 
of flames, regardless of their horrors, to snatch a 
wretched victim from destruction. He is insensi- 
ble to personal danger, where it is the greatest. I 
will not say that he does not listen to the sugges- 
tions of prudence, as prudential thoughts are not 
suggested. There is no passion, excepting anger, 
approaching to madness, which resembles the heed- 
less impetuosity of this emotion. Rage, eager to 
punish an offence or to revenge an insult, will also 
rush into danger, and expose its own life in order to 
glut its passion ; but its pallid countenance and the 
tremour of its limbs, indicate that Self is always 
predominant. The impulse of Sympathy renders 
the generous mind completely courageous. It is a 
stranger to personal fear ; all its anxieties are trans- 
ferred to the perils of the object. 

When the evil is less sudden and alarming ; when 
it is apparently of a permanent nature, sympathy 
with distress becomes an affection. 

Sympathetic affections are distinguished into 
various species, and discriminated by various ap- 
pellations, according to the peculiarities attendant 
upon their cause or the particular state of their object. 

They may be divided into those which respect 
Distress, Prosperity. Imitation, 

Of those which respect Distress, the following are 
the principal. 

Compassion, Compassion is that species of af- 
fection, which is excited, either by the actual dis* 



100 SYMPATHETIC SORROW. 

tress of its object, or by some impending calamity 
which appears inevitable. It is a benevolent sor- 
row at their sufferings, or their approaching misery. 
The etymology of the word expresses this idea with 
strict propriety ; as it signifies suffering with the 
object. 

Compassion is always connected with a disposi- 
tion to relieve, and will always prompt to vigorous 
exertions, wherever there is a possibility of success ; 
unless some important considerations should render 
the endeavour improper or unjust. 

Compassion has not a necessary connexion with 
the character of its objects. Their distress is a suf- 
ficient excitement. It is frequently exercised upon 
the unworthy, whose reiterated imprudences or vi- 
cious conduct, may have been the cause of their 
wretchedness. From the great extent and univer- 
sality of this affection, it may justly be considered 
as a generic name, comprehending several other af- 
fections which have a more specific application ; as 
Mercy, Commiseration, Pity, fyc, 

Mercy is the most exalted branch of compassion. 
It particularly refers to that state of mind, which 
induces us to exercise our compassion upon persons 
whose fate is, in some respect, at our disposal. It 
disposes us to relinquish demands, which, if enforc- 
ed to the utmost, would render us the immediate 
agents of miserj r . It is peculiarly applicable to un- 
worthy or criminal behaviour towards ourselves, 
which would inevitably involve the offender in dis- 
tress, were we to be tenacious of our rights. In a 
word, it is that dignified compassion which induces 
us to suppress resentment, to pardon offences, or 
mitigate punishments, as far as discretion may ad- 
mit. 

Commiseration, Although this term seems syno- 
nymous with the preceding, yet in its general use, 
it is somewhat different. It is always preferred 
when we wish to express our sympathy for misfor- 
tunes, which it is not in our power to remove ; or 



SYMPATHETIC SORROW. 101 

forVhich'there is no apparent remedy. Commise- 
ration, ruminating upon the state and sufferings of 
others, induces a permanent concern. In such cases 
it may be said that we commiserate the unfortunate 
sufferer, rather than that we have compassion upon 
him. But although this is a more helpless, it is not 
an useless affection. It sooths the mind of the af- 
flicted, and greatly alleviates their sorrows, when 
every other consolation fails. 

Condolence is the expression of our commisera- 
tion. 

Pity is also similar to the two preceding affections, 
but is more frequently applied to particular circum- 
stances, in the state and situation of the object, ra- 
ther than his immediate feelings. Thus we often 
pity those who have no pity upon themselves ; whose 
dispositions and conduct are leading them into evils, 
of which they entertain no apprehensions, or con- 
cerning which they are not solicitous. The decrepit 
and infirm also are the objects of our pity, though they 
may sustain their infirmities with an enviable 
cheerfulness. Children rendered destitute of wor- 
thy and affectionate parents, and exposed to future 
calamities, of which they are unconscious, are 
deemed peculiar objects of pity. Nay their igno- 
rance of their misfortunes augments the force of our 
sympathetic feelings. 

Generosity is the disposition which prompts us to 
bestow favours, which are not the purchase of any 
particular merit. It has not, like mercy, any im- 
mediate relation either to imprudences or criminali- 
ty. It is benevolence sympathising with some pe- 
culiarities in the state or circumstances of another, 
which demand our aid, either in the remission of 
pecuniary claims, in voluntary grants, or in dona- 
tions and benefactions to assist their indigence. It 
generally relates to some concessions, sacrifices, or 
peculiar exertions which have been made, in the 
exercise of the benevolent principle. The extent 
of generosity is measured by the advantages and 
9* 



102 SYMPATHETIC SORROW. 

pleasures, which have been relinquished in favour 
of another ; or according to the troubles and difficul- 
ties which have been encountered, by the benefac- 
tor on one hand, and the slender pretensions of the 
object to these benevolent offices, on the other. 

Liberality has sometimes a similar import with 
Generosity. Sometimes it has a particular refe- 
rence to the largeness of pecuniary or other dona- 
tions. In the present day it is frequently applied 
to sentiments respecting another. It is used in op- 
position to a narrow contracted mode of thinking, 
or to a censorious disposition, inspired by a diffe- 
rence of opinion. It expresses a freedom from the 
bias of prejudice or partiality. The man who is 
disposed to think well of, and act with kindness to- 
wards persons, whose religious or political creed 
differs materially from his own, is deemed Liberal- 
minded. 

Thus may Liberality be considered as a species 
of generosity, which usage chiefly applies to free 
donations, or to subduing unfavourable pre-posses- 
sions respecting the opinions of another. It is a li- 
beration from the confined manner of acting, or of 
thinking, which characterises either the parsimoni- 
ous or the bigot. 

Charity, in its original import, is synonymous 
with Love. In its application it is sometimes used 
to express a disposition to entertain a favourable 
opinion of the moral character or conduct of others, 
in opposition to unfavourable reports, until the 
strongest evidences implant conviction ; at other 
times, it signifies giving of alms, and doing good to 
inferiors. Benevolent exertions in behalf of the 
wretched, or the oppressed, are deemed acts of 
charity. 

Condescension is that species of benevolence, 
which designedly waves the supposed advantages of 
birth, title, or station, in order to accommodate our- 
selves to the state of an inferior, and to diminish 
that restraint which the apparent distance is calcu- 



SYMPATHETIC JOY, 103 

Jated to produce in him. It greatly enhances the 
value of every other species of benevolence. 

From the above analysis we perceive, that Mer- 
cy, Commiseration, Pity, Liberality, &c. are diffe- 
rent branches of Compassion adapted to the pecu- 
liar situation and exigencies of its objects. While 
Compassion relates to distress, in general, without 
minute distinctions, its ramifications respect crimi- 
nality of character or conduct, — the permanency of 
distress,-- -state and situations which strike us as pe- 
culiarly unfortunate,- -minuter exigencies, — reputa- 
tion, — and inferiority of station. It is not always 
requisite to give to each species of compassion its 
appropriate term ; yet the diversity of misfortunes, 
and the diverse alleviations of each, have imper- 
ceptibly introduced a correspondent phraseology, 
which in particular cases, manifests its peculiar pro- 
priety. 

Another important branch of Benevolence con- 
sists in partaking of the good fortune of others ; in 
the participation of their Joy, upon the accession of 
good, or liberation from evil. 

If the term Sympathy be employed in this con- 
nexion, it will denote a pleasurable sensation ex- 
cited within us, similar to that enjoyed by the pri- 
mary participant of good. 

It is observable that no particular terms are ap- 
propriated to this species of sympathy. There are 
no nice discriminations which indicate the different 
kinds of good, or the circumstances relative to it, in 
a manner correspondent with those which have 
been traced under sympathetic sorrow. Freedom 
from distress, or the increase of actual enjoyment, 
produces, as it were, one simple effect upon the 
mind of the benevolent sympathizer, without those 
various and more complicated sensations, which a 
diversity in misfortunes may occasion. These 
pleasing sensations can only be expressed by the 
general terms of joy, gladness, happiness, fyc. We 
rejoice at the fortunate event which has made 



104 SYMPATHETIC JOY. 

another happy ; we are glad to hear of their suc- 
cess ; are happy to be informed of their welfare, 
&c. 

In some instances, this species of benevolence 
becomes a very lively emotion, and the sudden im- 
pulse of joy may emulate that inspired by our own 
good fortune, although the object should be almost 
a stranger to us. When, for example, our minds 
have been previously and deeply affected with the 
knowledge of his distress ; — when a prosperous 
change has suddenly taken place ; — and particular- 
ly when this change has been accomplished by the 
triumph of the party over cruelty and oppression. 
In such cases, we enjoy this sudden transition from 
painful to pleasing sympathy, and we participate in 
that exultation over tyranny or injustice, to which 
every man entertains a hatred, unless it be his own 
act. 

But excepting upon extraordinary occasions of 
this nature, our sympathies with the good fortune of 
others, are much inferior in strength to those we ex- 
perience from their distress. Various reasons may 
be assigned for this difference. — The influence of 
many blessings, newly acquired, may not be so ex- 
tensive and important, as the influence of a single 
calamity ; it is scarcely possible for any one to be 
elevated to the pinnacle of happiness, in so rapid a 
manner as he may be plunged into the depth of dis- 
tress ; — good fortune, to whatever state or circum- 
stances we may apply the term, is generally of slow- 
er progress, is accumulated by almost imperceptible 
degrees, and therefore is not calculated to make a 
vivid impression at any one period of its progress ; 
— the object may be more deeply afflicted in his re- 
lative and social connexions, by the misfortunes or 
irregular conduct of an individual, than he could 
feel himself benefited by their prosperity ; conse- 
quently were we to sympathize with him in a man- 
ner correspondent with his own feelings, joyful 
events could not make an impression upon us equal 



SYMPATHETIC JOY. 105 

to his afflictions ; — those distresses which call forth 
our sympathy of sorrow are generally promulgated 
to a considerable extent, while recent acquisitions 
of good with ail the striking circumstances attend- 
ing them, are mostly confined to the narrow circle 
of relatives and friends. — To these incidental causes 
we may justly add the wise constitution of our na- 
ture, as the final cause. Sympathy with the dis- 
tresses of another is infinitely more useful than re- 
joicing in his^rosperity. it is an incentive to ad- 
minister relief, to annihilate his distress, and to re- 
store the sufferer to the pristine state of ease and 
comfort; and therefore is it rendered, by the Great 
Source of Benevolence, more powerful in its influ- 
ence and operations, than the sympathy of Joy in 
their welfare ; which cannot be productive of equal 
good. The different kinds of sympathetic sorrow, 
are admirably adapted to the particular state of its 
objects, in order that each may receive its corres- 
pondent benefit. These considerations will explain 
the reason why an insensibility to the misfortunes of 
any one, is much more opprobrious than an indiffe- 
rence to his actual enioyments. 

The immediate expressions of our joy are termed 
Congratulations. 

All the affections excited by the contemplation 
of Good or Evil, which relate to others, are mani- 
festly compound. Sympathy with sufferings, is 
composed of benevolence and sorrow ; and cordial 
congratulations are the effusions of benevolence 
and joy. 

It is observable that, in the benevolence we are 
now contemplating, the affection of Love is not 
necessarily placed upon the object, personally, on 
account of any excellence of character, or peculiar 
amiableness of disposition. It rejoices in the wel- 
fare of another, unconnected with his virtues. 
The Capacity of enjoyment is a sufficient motive 
for attempting to impart it ; and a state of distress 
is a sufficient incitement to attempt relief. In its 



106 COMPLACENTIAL AFFECTIONS. 

noblest exertions, benevolence indicates itself by 
the communication of good, in opposition to evil 
deserts, and in a strong propensity to protect from 
misery, which the bad conduct of the offender has 
not been able to subdue. It becomes a desire of 
promoting happiness, too ardent to be extinguished 
hy injury itself. 

Sympathy is also applicable to the Sociableness 
of the human character ; to the nature of man as 
formed to live in society. This is manifested by 
the reciprocal pleasure and satisfaction we experi- 
ence in our daily intercourse ; — by the eagerness 
with which we receive and communicate tidings 
that interest our fellow-men ; — by the love of imi- 
tation, and the readiness with which we conform 
to the customs, manners, and dispositions, and ac- 
qujesce in the opinions of others, without attention 
to the higher authority of propriety or impropriety, 
or weighing motives and arguments in the balance 
of reason. In short, it respects every act, habit f 
and sentiment, of which to participate in common 
is* gratifying to our feelings, and constitutes so 
large a portion of the enjoyments and seductions 
of life. 

This sympathetic Imitation brings us by imper- 
ceptible degrees to our Second Division. 

II. The Affections derived from Good Opinion, 

In this class of Social Affections, the operations 
of the Benevolent Principle are not so immediate. 
Though benevolence is associated, it is not the pri- 
mary agent. It is rather a consequence than a 
cause. It is not our benevolence which inspires us 
with these favourable opinions, but their good qua- 
lities which awaken and direct our benevolence. 
Our affections are drawn forth by an impressive 
sense of some species of excellence in character / 
and they may be placed upon objects, whose situa- 
tions do not require either our sympathetic joys or 
sorrows. These are most properly expressed by 
complacential regards ; for they consist both in the 



COMPLACENTIAL AFFECTIONS. 107 

approbation of the mind, and feelings of the heart. 
They relate to conduct and qualities, concerning 
which our judgment pronounces that they possess 
merit, while they are rendered interesting by virtue 
of our social connexions. 

The nature of Complacency, as it refers either 
to ourselves, or to our most intimate connexions, 
has already been considered. I shall only observe 
in this place, that when we are rendered partici- 
pants of good, from those qualities which are the 
proper objects of complacency ; or when we con* 
template peculiar marks of mental or moral excel- 
lencies, in others with whom we are conversant, 
our approbation is accompanied with various degrees 
of affection for them, although they may not be with- 
in the sphere of our intimacy. 

Of these affections the following are the most 
conspicuous. 

Gratitude. Gratitude is a pleasant affection, ex- 
cited by a lively sense of benefits received or in- 
tended, or even by the desire of being beneficial. 
It is the lively and powerful re-action of a well dis- 
posed mind, upon whom benevolence has conferred 
some important good. It is mostly connected with 
an impressive sense of the amiable disposition of the 
person by whom the benefit is conferred, and it im- 
mediately produces a personal affection towards 
him. When the affection operates according to the 
natural course of influence, it will be correspon- 
dent to the importance of the good obtained, — the 
distance in station between the recipient and his 
benefactor, — the smallness of his claims, — perhaps 
the consciousness of deserving very opposite treat- 
ment. These circumstances unite to warm the 
heart into raptures. The grateful mind is impatient 
of a silent and passive reception of the blessing. It 
cannot be restrained from acknowledging its obliga- 
tions, either by expressions or deeds. It considers 
every return in its power as an act of the strictest 



108 ADMIRATION. 

justice ; nor is it deterred by difficulties or dangers 
from making the attempt. The term most familiar- 
ly employed was originally suggested by this idea. 
The obligation is perceived, and felt; and the per- 
son benefitted considers himself as bound, in honour 
and justice, either to repay or acknowledge the 
debt, by a bond that cannot be cancelled. 

We shall not wonder at the peculiar strength and 
energy of this affection, when we consider that it 
is compounded of love placed upon the good com- 
municated, affection for the donor, and joy at the re- 
ception. Thus it has Goodness for its object, and 
the most pleasing, perhaps unexpected, if not unme- 
rited, exertions of goodness, for its immediate cause. 

Thankfulness refers to verbal expressions of gra- 
titude. 

Admiration. Although there is scarcely a word 
in more familiar use than the term admiration, yet 
much ambiguity has attended its precise significa- 
tion ; nor have authors of the greatest celebrity, 
been uniform in the sense they have affixed to it. 
Sometimes it has been deemed synonymous with 
Surprise ; sometimes it is used to express Wonder ; 
sometimes it is applied to subjects, as a mark of de- 
gradation ; at others, as expressive of excellencies. 

In Milton's Paradise Lost, it is more than once 
employed to denote wonder. 



-Let none admire 



That riches grow in helL 



book i. h. 690. 

In the following passage of ^hakspeare, it obvi- 
ously signifies wonder and astonishment. Lady Mac- 
beth says to her husband, terrified at the sight of 
Banquo's Ghost, 

You have displac'd the mirth, broke the good me&ting, with 
»ost admired disorder. 

MACBETH. 



ADMIRATION. J0& 

Mr. Pope has used it to express the indiscrimina* 
ting applause of Ignorance : 

For Fools admire, but Men of Sense approve. 

Mr. Grove defines admiration to he " That 9ud- 
den surprise at the novelty of an object, by which 
the soul is fastened down to the contemplation of 
it." He also asserts that " according to the diffe- 
rent characters of its object it is called esteem or 
contempt." 

These significations have doubtless been given in 
conformity to the Latin words, miror and admiratio, 
which are equally expressive of surprise, wonder, 
astonishment, and that vivid pleasure which the 
sudden perception of something extraordinary is 
calculated to produce in the mind. 

But in the most pertinent and appropriate use of 
the terms to admire, and admiration^ they are mani- 
festly deviating from a generic to a specific sense : 
and in proportion to our advances in precision and 
accuracy, we feel not only the advantage, but the 
necessity of applying them to some kind of excellency 
exclusively ; otherwise we shall be destitute of 
words to discriminate the finest feelings of the soul, 
from those which are common to the most ignorant 
and uncultivated. Even Idiots may be surprised : 
the most ignorant may wonder and frequently do 
wonder the most ; but neither of them are suscep- 
tible of that impression which is best expressed by 
admiration. 

If we adhere steadfastly to the rule, that no two 
words are perfectly synonymous, which cannot be 
used with equal propriety in every possible connex- 
ion ; we shall find that admiration is as superior to 
surprise and wonder, simply considered, as know- 
ledge is superior to ignorance ; for its appropriate 
signification is that act of the mind, by which we dis- 
cover, approve, and enjoy some unusual species of 
excellence. 

10 



110 ADMIRATIOX. 

The authority of Poets is of little weight, when 
we aim at philosophical precision. Their object is 
to produce some striking effect ; and this must be 
accomplished by other means, than by dividing and 
subdividing ideas into their component parts. Their 
subjects frequently borrow strength from foreign 
auxiliaries, which they claim a license to press into 
their service, as often as they require their aid, in 
direct violation of primitive rights. As the ancient 
Poets, by the personification of attributes and cha- 
racters, have peopled both Worlds with innumera- 
ble deities, which reason has found it very difficult 
to expel ; thus have Poets, in general, by the use of 
tropes and figures, by availing themselves of resem- 
blances and affinities of every species, given energy 
to their thoughts ; but they have inspired false 
ideas, which philosophical precision finds it difficult 
to eradicate. They have represented things which 
are not. as if they were ; and thus imposed a severe 
task upon philosophy, to discriminate the diffe- 
rences which they have confounded. 

Our best prose writers, whose subjects demand 
an attention tojust distinctions, generally apply ad- 
miration to some degree of Excellency. 

" When we have those elevated ideas of nature," 
says Mr. Dryden, " the result of that view is admi- 
ration, which is always the cause of pleasure." 
Mr. Addison observes, that " neither Virgil nor Ho- 
race would have gained so great reputation had 
they not been friends, and admirers of each other." 
In the following passage, Archbishop Tillotson gives 
a full and satisfactory explanation of the term. 
" There is a pleasure in admiration ; and this is that 
which properly causes admiration, when we disco- 
ver a great deal in an object which we understand 
to be excellent : and yet we see we know not how 
much more beyond that, which our understand- 
ings cannot fully reach and comprehend." (See 
Note R.) 

That Excellence which is the subject of admira- 



ADMIRATION. Ill 

lion, may either consist in the intellectual powers 
of mind, or dispositions of the heart. Admiration 
may be excited by the contemplation of greatness 
and extent of genius, by indications of superior ta- 
lents, by plans and projects which discover great 
ingenuity in contrivance and invention, or unusual 
skill in the execution. It is often excited by ex- 
traordinary exertions of benevolence ; such as dan- 
gers encountered to protect and save a friend, a 
stranger, or an enemy ; by the greatness of the sa- 
crifice made to misery, and the compassion that ex- 
cites to extraordinary acts of mercy. In short, the 
objective cause of admiration is whatever indicates 
a superior degree of wisdom, ingenuity, good sense, 
or benevolence. To such qualities it is properly 
confined. Power abstractedly considered is not the 
object of admiration ; though the dignified or bene- 
volent exertions of power, to the production of 
good, may excite the highest degree of admiration, 
and place it among the strongest of our emotions. 

It is obvious that the range of admiration is, from 
the simpler approbation of the mind, up to the most 
lively sensation, according to our conceptions of the 
extent of excellence, and the degrees of our interest 
in its effects. It is also blended with various other 
emotions, according to different circumstances at- 
tendant upon the passion. It is frequently intro- 
duced by Surprise ; when, for example, the disco- 
very of these excellencies is sudden and unexpect- 
ed ; and then it becomes a vivid emotion. It is ge- 
nerally connected with some degrees of Wonder; 
— as we are so frequently ignorant of the causes 
which enabled any one greatly to excel ourselves 
or others : but since it is always excited by the real 
discovery of some good qualities, it is not to be con* 
founded with an emotion which arises from igno- 
rance and embarrassment, previous to the disco- 
very. 

When the evidences of wisdom and goodness ex- 
ceed our utmost comprehension, or proceed far be- 



112 ESTEEM, RESPECT. 

yond the usual extent of excellence itself, they may 
excite Astonishment. 

Whatever is Good, or productive of Good, is the 
proper object of Love. Excellence must of con- 
sequence be peculiarly calculated to excite this af- 
fection in a superior degree : hence the pleasing and 
intimate connexion between Love and Admiration. 
When these are united with Gratitude, they consti- 
tute the happiest and sublimest affections of the 
soul. When the object manifests extraordinary be- 
nevolence ; — when immeasurable extents of wis- 
dom and goodness direct power to execute their 
purpose; — when incalculable advantages are the 
issue of their united operations, admiration swells 
into delectable astonishment, and our conscious in- 
capacity to fathom is an augmentation of enjoy- 
ment. 

Esteem is the value we place upon some degree 
of worth. It is higher than simple ajyprobafion, 
which is a decision of the judgment. Esteem is the 
commencement of affection. It is a degree of love 
entertained for others, on account of their pleasing 
qualities, though they should not immediately in- 
terest ourselves ; by which it is distinguished from 
gratitude. The term is peculiarly applicable to vir- 
tuous and amiable dispositions of the heart, such as 
honesty, integrity, patience, kindness, gentleness, 
&c. which have no necessary connexion with the 
understanding. Thus may we entertain an Esteem 
for persons of merit, although they are at a remote 
distance from our intimacy : we esteem the charac- 
ter of a person merely from the report of his good 
qualities. 

Respect is that favourable impression which the 
goodness of a character has made upon the person 
contemplating it, united with a share of good sense. 
An union of both these qualities is requisite. Good- 
ness alone is not sufficient to create respect. For 
should it be seated in a mind which indicates ex- 
treme imbecility, it cannot be deemed respectable. 



VENERATION, &C. 113 

On the other hand, superior sense in a mind desti- 
tute of goodness, will not inspire respect. It will 
either waste itself in idle speculations, which ren- 
ders it indifferent to us ; or it may degenerate into 
low cunning, which renders it hateful. Should it 
be connected with power, in a wicked and perverse 
mind, it will excite horror and dismay ; which are 
very remote from respect. 

This affection is always connected with a cauti- 
ous disposition not to disoblige its objects ; inspiring 
a solicitude to obtain their good-will. 

Veneration is a higher degree of Respect ; in 
which the mind seems to be more forcibly struck 
with wisdom, connected with the sterner virtues. 
Hence we speak of characters which are more vene- 
rable than amiable. The term is chiefly applicable 
to wisdom matured by years, or connected with 
some peculiar dignity of title or office, and indi- 
cated by integrity and uprightness. Thus we speak 
of venerable ancestors, venerable parents, magis- 
trates, &c. from a presumption of their superiority 
in wisdom. 

Awe is the impression made upon us by the lively 
idea of Power ; a power which would inspire dis- 
tressing fear or terror, were it not modified by other 
circumstances and qualities, suggesting the idea of 
safety. It may be inspired by things inanimate, 
when the perception of irresistible power is united 
with a confidence of safety. Thus lofty mountains, 
steep precipices, deep caverns, the tempestuous 
ocean, inspire the mind with Awe, in situations 
where they cannot injure us. When the emotion 
is inspired by Character, it acknowledges a power, 
restrained from pernicious exertions, either by jus- 
tice, or benevolence. 

Reverence is the veneration paid to superior sanc- 
tity, intermixed with a certain degree of awe. It is 
the high Respect paid to the sacred character of its 
object, attended with a conscious inferiority in moral 
worth. Esteem and Respect may be inspired by 
10* 



Hi VENERATION, &C. 

the qualities observable in our equals, and the form- 
ermore particularly in our inferiors ; but Veneration. 
Awe, and Reverence imply various degrees of supe- 
riority in their objects. 

It is manifest from the above Analysis, that the 
qualities which influence our favourable opinions, 
are various degrees and modifications of Goodness, 
Wisdom, and Power ; that some of our complacen- 
tial affections are inspired by the predominance of 
one, some by the predominance of another : and in 
some there is almost an indistinguishable union* 
Gratitude refers to goodness indicated by our recep- 
tion of benefits. Esteem refers to goodness in its 
feeblest indications ; therefore it is that we frequent- 
ly express our esteem for the good qualities of the 
heart, in any one, more than for the soundness of 
his understanding. Respect and Veneration refer to 
various degrees of wisdom, or intellectual power 
united with goodness ; and Awe may relate either to 
physical or intellectual power, which becomes im- 
pressive without inspiring dread. Reverence relates 
to superiority in moral endowments, connected with 
awe at intellectual powers, and a consciousness of 
our own deficiencies upon a comparative view. Ad- 
miration may refer to an unusual display of either 
of these qualities, separately ; or to the union of 
them in an extraordinary degree. 

As self-complacency has its counterfeit in pride 
and vanity, thus are the complacential affections lia- 
ble to similar perversion, and give rise to the follow- 
ing imperfections. 

Fondness. Though this affection is frequently 
pardonable, and sometimes amiable, yet it is an ac- 
knowledged weakness. It indicates an attachment 
to whatever belongs to us, or is immediately connect- 
ed with us, beyond its intrinsic merit. Sometimes it 
is inspired simply by the idea of its being our own 
property ; sometimes it is contracted or strengthened 
by habit : — sometimes it is the excess of love, where 
love is most natural, which indicates itself by infan- 
tile manners, or culpable indulgences j — and some- 



MALEVOLENT DESIRES, &C I Id 

times it is the excess of affection manifested to in* 
ferior animals, to which their superiors have a much 
better claim. 

Partiality. This is such an excess of personal at- 
tachment as obscures the judgment, or corrupts the 
heart. It inclines to a more favourable opinion of 
the motives, conduct, and general merit of its object, 
than is consistent with the justice due to others. 

When any of the social and sympathetic affections 
are very strong, they rise to Emotions, and produce 
some correspondent tokens in the countenance. 
Complacency indicates itself by ineffable smiles ; the 
countenance becomes animated, and the eyes sparkle 
with delight. Sympathetic joy manifests itself by the 
indications characteristic of joy. Sympathy with 
distress retains something of the benignant smile, 
mixed with marks of dejection, of deep concern, or 
inward anguish. When admiration rises into trans- 
port, all the symptoms peculiar to surprise are some- 
times mixed with marks of complacential love, and 
sometimes checked by veneration and awe, in which 
some portion of fearful apprehension becomes an in- 
gredient. 

In all these sympathetic affections, the Eye is the 
most expressive. It is properly termed the Index 
of the Soul. Particular attitudes and gestures, and 
the various forms and plaits of the features may be 
counterfeited by the unfeeling heart ; but it cannot 
so easily imitate the brisk suffusions of joy, the sym- 
pathetic tear, the deep veneration and awe, and the 
eager admiration, which real feelings transmit imme- 
diately from the heart, into that wonderful organ. 



ORDER II. 

PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS EXCITED BY DISPLACEN- 
CY } IN WHICH EVIL IS THE PREDOMINANT IDEA. 

The reason for preferring the word Disjplacency to 
Malevolence, as a generic term, has already been 



116 MALEVOLENT DESIRES 

given. Malevolence is rejected, as not being so ap- 
plicable to every branch of that displeasure we ma/ 
possibly indulge against others ; whereas Displacen- 
cy comprehends those various kinds of discontent to 
which we are exposed, in our social intercourse* 
Displacency may indicate itself by dispositions ex- 
ceedingly inimical to its objects, or it may consist in 
warm disapprobation of their conduct. In the first 
sense, it is opposed to the operations of the benevo- 
lent principle ; and in the other, it is the reverse of 
complacency, which indicates various degrees of af- 
fectionate approbation. 

The word Displacency is solely applicable to our 
intercourse with the human species, and is not em- 
ployed to express discontent or uneasiness from any 
other source. 

Displacency divides itself also into two kinds. It 
may be indicated by malevolent desires and disposi- 
tions towards the object : or by unfavourable opi- 
nions and disapprobations, without any mixture of 
Malevolence. 

I. The displacency which is indicated by malevo- 
lent desires and dispositions. 

These may be either of a permanent nature, or 
merely occasional. The former relates to that Ma- 
levolence or ill-will which is constant and uniform 
in its influence ; the other to the passion of Anger 
and its various modifications, which have some par- 
ticular acts of an unpleasing and irritating nature foi 
their immediate objects. 

The first species of Malevolence is a branch of 
that general principle of Hatred, which has already 
occupied our attention. (See Ch. i. Sect, hi.) It 
originates from various incidental causes ; — such 
as from reiterated injuries, and vexations ; — from 
unjust or exaggerated representations of the tem- 
per, designs, motives, conduct of another, which 
are unpleasant or pernicious ; — from the partialities 
so intimately connected with our social intimacies 
and affections, which give rise to violent prejudices 



AX» DISPOSITIONS. |1? 

against those who appear inimical to their inte- 
rests ; — from a spirit of envy and jealousy, which 
connects hatred of the Person with repining at his 
good fortune. Clans and classes of Enmity may 
thus be formed, which, augmented by the power of 
social sympathy, will finally become inveterate 
and implacable. Malevolence therefore commen- 
ces with some idea of evil, belonging to and con- 
nected with the object ; and it settles into a perma- 
nent hatred of his person, and of every thing rela- 
tive to him. 

The principle thus formed gives rise to the fol- 
lowing malevolent affections. 

Malignancy or Malignity, Both these words 
express a disposition which cherishes inveterate 
hatreds, and maintains implacable war against its 
object; a disposition which deliberately plan* 
schemes of mischief, and employs every means 
that power, mental or physical, can furnish to the 
prejudice of another. These words are nearly 
synonymous. In some connexions, Malignity 
seems rather more pertinently applied to a radical 
depravity of nature, and Malignancy to indications 
of this depravity, in temper and conduct in particu- 
lar instances. 

Both may be manifested by the perversion of 
power, whether physical or intellectual ; and our 
dread of the disposition will be proportioned to our 
conceptions of the magnitude of this power. 
Hence the terror inspired by the idea of Demons 
and wicked Spirits, or Beings of a higher order, 
who are supposed to be devoid of every thing that 
is good, and replete with every thing that is evil. 
So that 

To do ought good never can be their task, 
But ever to do ill their sole delight. 

MlLTO^. 

To such Beings we ascribe Malignancy to an infinite 
extent. 



118 MALEVOLENT DESIRES 

Malice, on the other hand, is more frequently em- 
ployed to express the dispositions of inferior minds, 
to execute every purpose of mischief, within the 
more limited circle of their abilities. It often 
shows itself by little incidents; such as, — by thwart- 
ing the favourite purposes of another: — by refusing 
the good that might be communicated without per- 
sonal injury ; by encouraging unfavourable reports ; 
— by raising unjust suspicions : — by perverse mis- 
representations, &:c. This temper is sometimes 
expressed by spite, or by having a spite against any 
one. Thus, if we ascribe Malignancy to Beings of 
a superior order, by way of pre-eminence, malice 
and a malicious disposition, may with peculiar pro- 
priety be reserved for the minor agents of mischief, 
whose power of doing evil is not proportionate to 
their inclinations. 

Envy. This is a painful sensation excited by the 
view of something desirable in the state and situa- 
tion of another, which self-love wishes to appropri- 
ate. To envy, is to repine at the good conferred 
upon another, or possessed by him. Thus it is a 
perfect contrast to the sympathy which rejoices at 
his welfare. Envy entertains a degree of sorrow 
that the good contemplated should escape ourselves, 
and of anger that it should fall to the share of 
another. The inordinate self-love which excites to 
envy, naturally induces the envious person to ima- 
gine that he is more deserving, than the object who 
has been favoured. He contemplates his own sup- 
posed merit, in opposition to the supposed demerit 
of the more happy object, until he becomes fully 
convinced, in his own prejudiced judgment, of the 
injustice of the distribution : and feels a spirit of 
resentment arising against the possessor, and every 
cause of his enjoyment. 

Thus is envy that species of malevolence, which 
is inspired by the conjoined influence of pride, sor- 
row, and anger. 

Envy is denominated a passion, together with 



AND DISPOSITIONS. 119 

many other of the malevolent affections ; partly 
because it may be very strongly excited by particu- 
lar incidents, and partly in consequence of that sin- 
gular law of usuage which assigns the word Affec- 
tions to the benevolent feelings, and Passions to 
the powerful influence of vicious dispositions. (See 
Ch. i. Page 14.) 

Rancour is that degree of malice which preys 
upon the possessor. His heart is torn with vexa- 
tion when he contemplates the happiness of another, 
or when he is foiled in his evil purposes towards him. 

Cruelty. A cruel disposition respects the particu- 
lar temper manifested in the contemplation or in- 
fliction of absolute misery. It has various degrees. 
Sometimes it isexpre>sive of that hardness of heart, 
which is able to look upon extreme distress without 
any sensations of humanity. Sometimes cruelty is 
indicated by the voluntary and unnecessary inflic- 
tion of misery : and in its highest state it rejoices 
and triumphs in the diffusion of horrors ; in the wan- 
ton shedding of blood, and spreading desolation. It 
is gratitied with the convulsions of agony : groans 
and lamentations are music in its ears. 

This tiend-like temper may proceed from a natu- 
ral insensibility, strengthened by a perverse educa- 
tion ; — from envy : — from a spirit of revenge for 
supposed injuries : — from cowardice, resenting the 
panic it feels ; — or from insatiable ambition, which 
wades through torrents of blood, and renders the 
mangled bodies of the slain, stepping-stones to that 
pre-eminence of station after which it aspires. 

Censoriousness is a disposition to find fault with 
the conduct, sentiments, or dispositions of another, 
deeming every action improper, or ascribing it to 
improper motives. 

Prejudice is the reverse of partiality. This in- 
clines to the favourable side in judging or vindicat- 
ing of conduct, more than reason or charity de- 
mands : prejudice, on the contrary, is that degree of 
malevelence which disposes us to pre-judge the 



120 MALEVOLENT DESIRES 

character, conduct, or motive of another to his disad- 
vantage, without having the proper evidences before 
us. It is obvious that the partiality indulged for one 
person, may excite, or greatly increase our prejudice 
against another. 

It is observable that the common use of each of 
these terms is not entirely correspondent with their 
original import. Partiality properly signifying a 
partial and imperfect view of the evidence, is in it- 
self applicable to an undue bias of opinion or dispo- 
sition, whether it he favourable or disfavourable to 
the object; and prejudice as it originally signifies 
pre-judging, is in itself equally applicable to a pre- 
cipitate decision for or against any one ; but custom 
applies the term partiality to a disposition in favour, 
and prejudice, without an expletive, to a disposition 
against another. 

There is a personal hatred, which has no specific 
name. It consists of an habitual dislike against 
some particular object, without being connected 
with ill-will, or a desire of his being unhappy. It 
avoids social intercourse with the party, or renders 
social intercourse irksome. It is sometimes the re- 
sidue of anger which forgive, as it is frequently ex- 
pressed, but does not forget. It is sometimes in- 
spired by unfavourable reports and misrepresenta- 
tions, constituting insufferable prejudices ; and not 
unfrequently, by some very disagreeable peculiarity 
of manners in the object. 

Ingratitude cannot be termed an affection. It is 
the negative of a virtue, which a feeling heart 
places among the first of obligations. It is an in- 
sensibility to benefits received, either arising from 
stupidity, culpable inattention, or innate pride, 
which annihilates the idea of a favour, and con- 
siders every service rendered as the discharge of a 
debt. 

Apathy is a singular stagnation of all the social 
feelings. It professes neither to love nor to hate ; 
it affects an indifference to which it cannot possibly 
attain, as it terminates in a disgust of life and all its 



AND DISPOSITIONS. 121 

objects. Apathy is a kind of gangrene affecting the 
social principle, which like a mortified limb in the 
corporeal system, is an incumbrance to the patient, 
and a nuisance to others. 

Neither dislike, ingratitude, nor apathy, are abso- 
lutely chargeable with malevolence ; but as they are 
the disgraceful negatives of every social affection, 
and are much more prepared to hate than to love, 
this seems to be their proper department. 

The second species of Malevolence relates to 
those occasional and more transient fits of ill-will, 
which are excited by particular provocations, and 
which are not totally repugnant to the benevolent 
affections. These are indicated by Anger, and its 
various modifications. 

Anger has already been considered as the passion 
which is excited by a quick sense of injury ; and it 
has been described as having a double relation ; the 
one immediately respecting ourselves, the other 
respecting the offender. To the first we directed 
our thoughts under the selfish passions ; where the 
influence of anger upon our personal feelings, and 
effects upon the corporeal system, were particularly 
considered. We shall now confine our attention to 
the changes produced in our minds respecting its 
object. 

As long as we are under the influence of Anger, 
considered either as a passion or an affection, we 
experience a temporary suspension of our usual 
complacency, and even of our good will and general 
benevolence, towards the object of our displeasure. 
Under the impulse of the first emotion, we are con- 
scious of a desire that the offender should suffer, in 
some degree proportionate to this recent instance of 
his demerit ; we are prompted to imagine that jus- 
tice itself demands a punishment adequate to the 
offence ; we feel ourselves much inclined to become 
the ministers of justice, and are impatient of delay 
m the execution of her commands. 

When the provocation arises from the conduct of 
11 



122 MALEVOLENT DESIRES 

any one, with whom we are intimately connected, 
our habitual love of their persons and regard for 
their welfare, may restrain the passion within the 
bounds of justice, and the explosion which gave 
vent to the passion may restore the calm. When 
it arises from the misconduct of a person, for whom 
we are particularly interested, and when this mis- 
conduct endangers his welfare, the very principle 
of benevolence converts our complacency into. its 
contrary. In this case, being such an expressive 
indication of our displeasure as to inspire terror, it 
is admirably calculated to strike the offender with 
awe, and reclaim his conduct. As soon as passion 
is able to attend to the united voices of reason and 
affection, they will frequently join to palliate the 
offence, by ascribing it to some incidental cause ; 
to the common frailties of our nature, to the strong 
impulse of particular circumstances, &c. and the 
offender becomes reinstated in our favourable re- 
gards. But reiterated provocations being indubita- 
ble marks of culpable inattention, disrespect, or de- 
pravity of disposition, will entirely change our 
opinion of character, and inspire us with indif- 
ference or permanent displeasure against the cause. 

Rage has been described as the madness of 
anger. 

Revenge is an insatiable desire to sacrifice every 
consideration of pity and humanity, to the principle 
of vindictive justice. It renders the demands of 
that terrific giant paramount to every other claim. 
It is a propensity to retaliate evil, too fervent to be 
cooled by time, too deep and inveterate to be ob- 
literated by concessions and entreaties. It antici- 
pates joy in the contemplation of sighs and groans, 
and the only moment of transport is the instant of 
inflicting misery. 

We see that this disposition approaches very near 
to permanent malevolence, of the most despicable 
character. The abstract idea of justice, however, 
forms a partition between them ; for to this, malevo- 



AND DISPOSITIONS. 123 

lence has no rightful claim. But its more honoura- 
ble distinction consists in that repentance, which 
humanity excites in the mind that is not totally ob- 
durate, after the gratification of this dreadful pas- 
sion. The avenger feels, too late, that he has sa- 
crificed realities to a phantom ; and that to inflict 
misery is in no case, the path to happiness. 

Wrathis a deep and irritating sense of an injury. 
It is deliberate anger ; being chiefly inspired by the 
contemplation of various aggravating circumstances 
attendant upon the offence. The desire of retalia- 
tion is not a constituent part of it ; by this it is dis- 
tinguished from revenge. But it occasions a ferment 
in the spirits incompatible with the indulgence of 
complacency. 

Resentment. This affection has been described 
to be a deep reflective displeasure against the con- 
duct of an offender. We may now observe, that re- 
sentment is chiefly excited by some personal offence, 
committed against the laws of social intercourse; 
of friendship, or of gratitude ; — by some affront, 
that wounds our self-love, it may be, our pride; — 
by some reprehensible inattention to our minuter 
claims ; — or by the want of respect and affection, 
to which we imagine that the tenour of our conduct 
towards the object, has given us an undoubted right. 
It may terminate in indifference, and, in weak minds, 
in malice ; but it is generally appeased by concessions 
and acknowledgments. 

Suspicion. This is a comfortless state of doubt 
concerning the conduct and character of another. 
The mind is greatly embarrassed respecting the de- 
gree of esteem, cordiality, or friendship, which is 
due to the object. Suspicion may be excited by 
some kind of accusation, not supported by evidence 
sufficient for conviction, but sufficient to trouble 
the repose of confidence. When exercised towards 
Intimates, it is an anxious suspension of mind be- 
tween complacency and displacency ; between that 
respect we were accustomed to entertain for them. 



124 MALEVOLENT DESIRES 

and the painful apprehension that they no longer 
deserve it. We feel an incipient anger and resent- 
ment, which we dare not to indulge, and cannot 
suppress. 

Jealousy is a species of suspicion that relates to 
conduct, which still more intimately concerns our- 
selves. It is a painful apprehension of rivalship, 
in cases that are peculiarly interesting to us. It 
will of consequence increase in strength, according 
to the value we place upon the object, and to the 
degrees of danger to which we imagine it may be 
exposed. It is the inseparable companion of the 
ambitious, who view every competitor, and every 
one capable of becoming a competitor, with a jea- 
lous eye. It is sometimes engrafted upon pride, 
which is deeply wounded by appearances of neglect. 
It is a frequent attendant upon love ; and in a mild- 
er sense of the term, it may be considered as an 
anxious solicitude least we should be supplanted in 
the affections of those we most highly esteem* 
The passion is sometimes excited in weak minds, 
by the very excess of affection ; for this excess is 
prone to be perpetually upon the watch, and tor- 
ments itself with groundless fears. Jealousy, in 
the extreme, contains a complication of the most 
tremendous passions which can agitate the human 
breast. Though it has love for its basis, yet it suf- 
fers the united torments of every painful emotion. 
It finds equal danger in the most opposite appear- 
ances. Every token of innocence is interpreted 
into a proof of guilt; and every instance of affec- 
tion, as a mark of insulting hypocrisy. 

It is a green-ey'd monster, which doth make 
The meat it feeds on. — 



Trifles light as air 



Are to the jealous, confirmations strong 
As proofs of holy writ- 



SHAKSPEARE S OTHELLO 



Under the influence of this baneful passion the 
mind becomes, at intervals, the sport of transport- 



AND DISPOSITIONS, 125 

ing hope, and wild despair ; is alternately torment- 
ed, by fits of rage and the depth of contrition, for 
excesses committed in its transports. In a word, 
uniting the extremes of dreadful hatred and pas- 
sionate fondness, it entertains most cruel suspicions 
of the object it most adores ; and is tempted to 
destroy that which it dreads to lose ! 

The class of evil passions under permanent Ma- 
levolence, are indications of the depraved character 
and dispositions of their subject, in whom they are 
seated, not having any immediate reference to the 
character of their object. Those which are now 
described as the modifications of anger, respect the 
impressions, which occasional deviations from the 
usual tenour of conduct, make upon the mind of the 
person most interested ; in which, both the feelings 
and indications of ill-will are of a more transitory 
nature ; so that they deserve not to be confounded 
with permanent hatred. 

We shall now proceed to consider those emotions 
and affections which are inspired by the contempla- 
tion of Evil; and in which neither malevolence, 
nor any of the selfish affections, are necessary in- 
gredients. 

II. The Displacency which is indicated by un- 
favourable opinions of conduct and disposition. 
This gives rise to the following emotions and affec- 
tions. 

Horror. Horror is that very strong and painful 
emotion, which is excited by the view or contem- 
plation of something peculiarly atrocious in the 
conduct of another ; by some vice which exceeds 
the usual extravagance of vice ; enormities that 
surpass the bounds of common depravity — such as 
impurities too gross to be named, profligacies too 
shocking to be repeated, and cruelties which make 
us shudder at the recital. It may also be excited 
by the extremes of agony, mental or corporeal, or 
by sufferings and punishments at which our natures 
recoil. 



126 MALEVOLENT DESIRES 

This passion may be deemed the antipode of 
admiration. The one is inspired by the contem- 
plation of surpassing excellency ; the other by 
the excess of vice and wretchedness. As that is 
one of the most pleasing sensations we can possibly 
enjoy, this is among the most painful we can 
possibly suffer. Scenes of the above description 
excite a tremour upon the mind, a species of terror, 
scarcely equalled by the most lively apprehensions 
of danger. 

Indignation expresses a strong and elevated dis- 
approbation of mind, which is also inspired by 
something flagitious in the conduct of another. 
But it does not always suppose that excess of 
depravity which alone is capable of committing 
deeds of horror. Indignation always refers to 
culpability of conduct ; and cannot, like the passion 
of horror, be extended to distress either of mind or 
body. It is produced, by the violation of some 
indispensable obligation connected with circum- 
stances peculiarly aggravating : — by acts of treache- 
ry, the abuse of confidence, base ingratitude, &c. 
which we cannot contemplate without being pro- 
voked to anger, and feeling a generous resentment ; 
though we should not be interested in the con- 
sequences of the conduct we condemn. Indignant 
emotions are always excited by particular inci- 
dents. 

Contempt, This is a more calm and deliberate 
affection of the mind. It directs its chief atten- 
tion to the character and disposition, which is 
capable of committing unworthy and disgraceful 
actions. Its objects are radical baseness, and 
radical imbecility where it ought not to exist. 
Thus we despise the man who is capable of fraud, 
deceit, falsehood, and every species of moral de- 
pravity, which indicates an extraordinary degree 
of meanness. The man who makes great preten- 
sions to more exalted powers, and better qualities 
than he really possesses, and the man who vainly 



AND DISPOSITIONS. 127 

boasts of much more than he can perform, or 
courts our admiration of accomplishments of which 
he is destitute, or which he possesses in a very 
inferior degree, renders himself also an object of 
contempt. 

Thus the characters which are sunk below the 
common level of humanity, and those which ar- 
rogantly and impotently attempt to rise above it, 
are universally deemed the proper objects of this 
emotion. 

Both indignation and contempt are accompanied 
with a certain elevation of mind. The observer 
feels and enjoys a conscious superiority > when he 
compares himself with the offender. This sense of 
superiority is more strongly marked in contempt. 
When it rises to a certain height it indicates, 

Disdain. Disdain is such a degree of contempt 
as precludes any commerce with the party despised. 
It considers him as totally unworthy of our notice : 
— even of our reprehension, which always supposes 
a possibility of reclaim. It feels as if there was 
something so repulsive in the character of the ag- 
gressor, that he is no longer entitled to the rights of 
social intercourse. 

Contempt and disdain are often accompanied with 
a satirical smile, which strongly insinuates that base- 
ness and meanness are also intermixed with large 
portions of folly. 

Irrision. This term is employed to express an 
affection, inspired by any peculiarity in sentiment, 
disposition, or conduct, that we deem an offence 
against some acknowledged law of congruity, some 
standard of propriety universally received and re- 
spected ; but which is not of sufficient magnitude to 
excite anger, or any of its ramifications. It chiefly 
refers to something odd, whimsical, absurd, which is 
calculated to excite laughter, rather than incur our 
displeasure. Various mistakes, and egregious blun- 
ders, which indicate culpable ignorance, inatten- 



528 MALEVOLENT DESIRES 

tions, and extravagancies, are the proper objects of 
irrision. 

The above seem to be the principal emotions and 
affections which are inspired by the contemplation 
of conduct and character. They are strong marks 
of displacency, which does not arise from malevo- 
lence in our dispositions, but on the contrary, from 
the warm love of beneficent virtue. Nor are they 
necessarily connected with personal injuries, though 
a sense of injuries, will infallibly impart great energy 
to each emotion. 

As anger is the guardian of our own personal in- 
terests, thus is the present class of emotions and af- 
fections destined to be the guardians of virtue, de- 
cency, and propriety in general. It is remarkable 
that the mind is affected by transgressions against 
these, in exact proportion to the degrees of culpa- 
bility obvious in the offence. Horror rouses within 
us such a degree of resentment, as becomes the se- 
verest reproof to the enormities at which it shud- 
ders ; and when excited by deeds of cruelty it calls 
up a laudable spirit of revenge ; and it renders the 
mildest and meekest dispositions solicitous for a 
power of retaliation. Indignation is always direct- 
ed against the violation of some sacred law, which 
is respected by every man who is not destitute of 
virtue and honour. Contempt is the punishment 
directed against that meanness of character, and 
perverseness of conduct, which sink a man below 
the level of social intercourse, and disqualify him 
for decent and respectable society. Irrision and 
ridicule, are the protectors of order, decency, and 
propriety in the lesser departments ; against which 
the transgressor is thus made to feel his offence. 
He is taught to perceive that his conduct or princi- 
ples are inconsistent with common sense, and to 
suspect that he is in danger of being ranked in the 
©pprobrious class of fools. 

The visible tokens of emotion under each species 



AND DISPOSITIONS. 129 

of displacency, are characteristic of its nature. 
Those painful sensations which are peculiar to the 
most malevolent passions, legibly inscribe their 
marks upon the countenance. The deep sunk eye, 
the pallid anxiety of Malice and Envy, indicate the 
inward torments of the mind ; and the ineffectual 
attempts to smile, in transient gleams of satisfaction 
at misery, only serve to render horror more horrid. 
Fear and dread have been considered as the most 
painful emotions inspired by the selfish principle ; 
and their pathological symptoms manifest an insupe- 
rable anxiety and depression. Malignity has adopt- 
ed these feelings with their external marks ; inter- 
mixing them with the irritations of anger ; which, 
however, it attempts to repress from bursting forth 
into emotions, through the apprehensions of detec- 
tion. 

The displacency of anger manifests the tokens 
descriptive of anger, already noticed ; which, ac- 
cording to the degrees of their violence, strike ter- 
ror into great offenders, or inspire the thoughtless 
and inattentive with respect and awe. 

The horror excited by the excess of wickedness 
or of misery, approaches to terror, both in sensation 
and in external marks. Indignation, contempt and 
disdain, paint upon the countenance a singular mix- 
ture of dignified superiority and deep disapproba- 
tion. A certain elevation, becoming the majesty of 
insulted virtue, is united with a lively sense of the 
depravity and meanness of the offender ; and a 
contrast is instantaneously formed between exalted- 
ness of character, and the state of degradation into 
which he has fallen. The satirical jocularity accom- 
panying contempt, in irrision, throws into the coun- 
tenance, marks of exultation over the imbecility or 
absurdities of the person ridiculed. Without sub- 
scribing to the hypothesis of Mr. Hobbes, that pride 
is the efficient cause of laughter, it must be acknow- 
ledged, that this species of laughter is always accon> 



130 MALEVOLENT DESIRES, &C. 

panied with an insulting consciousness of superi- 
ority. 

In the above Analysis we have attempted to trace 
the origin of the Passions, their exciting causes, 
their immediate objects, and their numerous ramifi- 
cations. We have contemplated the infinite diver- 
sity and contrariety of effects, which proceed from 
that one principle, the Love of Good, in Beings 
formed as we are, stationed in a world where every 
surrounding object is able to produce its own speci- 
fic impression ; Beings, whose individual, and whose 
social interests, are so many, various and compli- 
cated. 

But this Analytical survey does not terminate the 
history of the Passions. There are various other 
points of view in which it is proper to contemplate 
them, in order to increase our acquaintance with 
the rudiments of self-knowledge, and enable us to 
draw those moral and practical inferences, which 
may prove most conducive to the love and practice 
of Virtue. 

These are reserved for the Second Part of our 
Treatise. 



END OF PART THE FIRST. 



PART II. 

PHILOSOPHICAL OBSERVATIONS 

AND 

INQUIRIES, 

FOUNDED UPON THE PRECEDING ANALYSIS 



CHAPTER I. 

OBSERVATIONS RESPECTING THE LAWS OF EX- 
CITEMENT. 

OBSERVATION I. 

SURPRISE THE EFFICIENT CAUSE OF PASSION. 

In different parts of our analysis of the Passions,, 
the influence of the introductory emotions, in quick- 
ening affections of the most opposite nature into a 
passion, has fully appeared. It has been shown, 
that whatever strikes us in a sudden and unexpect- 
ed manner, generally makes, for the instant, a more 
vivid impression, than things and circumstances of 
much greater consequence, with which we have 
been familiarized, or which have been more slowly 
and progressively introduced to our notice. It has 
been rendered obvious, that Wonder is compound- 
ed of surprise, and the impression made upon the 
mind ; by the idea of Intricacy ; — and that Aston- 
ishment unites the perception of vastness with sur- 
prise ; — we have remarked, that these are, by unj- 



i32 CAUSE or PASSION, 

versal suffrage, emphatically termed emotions; — and 
we have seen the influence of these introductory 
emotions, in passions of the most opposite charac- 
ters. 

These considerations united make it highly pro- 
bable, that the essential and characteristic difference 
between a Passion and an Affection, depends upon 
the Superaddition of Surprise, to the natural effect 
produced by the real or supposed quality of an ob- 
ject ; — that this Emotion, conjoined with the speci- 
fic nature of its exciting cause, is virtually the effi- 
cient cause of a Passion : the percussion of surprise 
rendering the affection visible, by characteristic 
signs, correspondent with its specific nature. 

Thus for example, in Joy, the pleasing part of the 
impression owes its origin to the possession, or un- 
doubted expectancy, of some desirable good. This, 
in its lowest influence, produces some degree of 
change in the corporeal frame. It is & sensation, and 
must be felt somewhere. The vividness of the im- 
pression occasioned by the impetus of surprise, ren- 
ders this sensation more vivid, diffuses its effects over 
the whole system, and occasions a delectable and 
ungovernable flow of spirits, which becomes con- 
spicuous to every spectator. But as novelty is the 
exciting cause of surprise, in proportion as the no- 
velty of good subsides, surprise gradually diminish- 
es, and leaves the mind under the influence of an 
affection, more proportionate to the real value of the 
object. 

Thus we may suppose the Passion of Anger, to 
consist of that disagreeable sensation, which a sense 
of injury will always occasion, quickened by surprise 
into an ungovernable emotion. The reluctance 
with which we part with any thing contributing to 
our benefit or enjoyment, will be quickened by sur- 
prise into the agonies of sorrow ; which is also able 
to convert painful apprehensions into the excess of 
Fear. 

Nor does the acknowledged fact, that our passioes 



CAUSE OF PASSIOX. 133 

•re sometimes excited by deliberate contemplation, 
militate against the opinion. 

This can only take place in affairs of high impor- 
tance ; and in such cases the more deliberate sur- 
vey consists in examining, and reflecting upon every 
circumstance, relative to the nature of the exciting- 
cause, which necessarily produces a variety of new 
and unexpected combinations, each of which will be 
attended with a proportionate degree of surprise ; 
and although there may not be in any one circum- 
stance, that quantum of Novelty which so powerful- 
ly strikes the mind, in cases that are sudden and to- 
tally unexpected, yet the combined influence of the 
aggregate number of Novelties, may finally produce 
the most extravagant passions. Thus may the mind 
calculate the variety of benefits accruing from some 
prosperous event, until it be transported with joy ;-— 
enumerate the evils of privation, until it become; 
frantic with sorrow ; — dwell upon the number and 
magnitude of provocations which aggravate an in- 
jury, until resentment shall be converted into rage ; 
— and by ruminating upon the extent of danger, it 
may be driven into despa'wr. 

If this conjecture be admitted, it will give a beau- 
tiful simplicity to the theory of the Passions. It 
shows that they may be decomposed into the sim- 
plest elements : while it indicates the manner, bv 
which the combination of these elements may be 
productive 01 such an infinite variety, both in na- 
ture and strength. It shows, that the different de- 
grees of force in the quickening agent, or of its re- 
iterated influence, are calculated to give various de- 
crees of momentum to each particular atfection. 






134 AFFECTIONS ALONfc 



OBSERVATION II. 



PASSIONS AND EMOTIONS ARE OF A TRANSITORY 

NATURE ; THE AFFECTIONS ALONE ARE 

PERMANENT. 

According to the distinctions which have been 
made between Passions, Emotions, and Affections, 
it clearly appears that the two former are in their 
nature transient, and that the affections are capable 
of much longer duration. The passions have been 
represented as vivid sensations, passively or invo- 
luntarily, produced by some strong idea excited in 
the mind ; and emotions as the external marks of 
these. But as this passive state of mind is transi- 
tory, so are its external marks ; and as both gradu- 
ally subside, they give place to some correspondent 
affection, which remains as long as our opinion, and 
the interest we take in the object, shall continue. 
It necessarily follows from these facts, that we are 
not to look to the passions and emotions either for 
permanent well-being, or for permanent wretched- 
ness. They must either die away and leave no im- 
pression, as in cases where the imagination was de- 
ceived, respecting the value or importance of the 
exciting cause, or they are the harbingers of some 
more durable affections ; and it is the influence 
of these affections which has the permanent effect 
upon our well-being. Thus, when we give ourselves 
over to the delectable tumults of Joy, the joy is in- 
cidental. It is hastily introduced by the sudden, 
perception or impressive sense of some acquisition, 
which we deem important to present or future wel- 
fare ; of a something which we expect to be more 
or less durable in its nature, or to diffuse its benefi- 
cent influence to a considerable extent. These ad- 
vantages are concentrated, as it were, in the ima- 
gination, at the instant of joy. They operate upon 
the mind as the solar rays collected in a focus dart 
upon the surface of a body ; and though the plea- 
sures of joy are often greater than those derived 



PERMANENT. 135 

from its causes, yet we naturally expect more than 
the momentary well-being introduced by the emo- 
tion itself. 

In the first impulse of Sorrow, the magnitude of 
the loss is the most impressive idea. As the mind 
becomes more intimately acquainted with the na- 
ture and extent of the privation, the agonies of sor- 
row will either subside into indifference, from the 
perception that the loss was not of that importance 
as had been imagined, and that it has been amply 
supplied by some valuable and unexpected blessing; 
or the vivid impression will be effaced by time, 
which always piaces before us a variety of objects 
new and interesting ; or finally, the transports of 
sorrow will gradually give way to habitual grief and 
melancholy. 

Thus Fear is inspired, and becomes agonizing, 
from the apprehension of some species of calamity ; 
and the influential idea at the instant, is, that by the 
expected calamity we shall be lastingly deprived of 
some Good we wish to retain, or that it will be intro- 
ductory to some durable Evil ; though the fear it- 
self may be much more painful than the evil we 
dread. Anger is roused by an immediate sense of 
injury cpmmitted or threatened ; that is, by the ap- 
prehension of some robbery of the good to which 
we have a claim. Here again the mind, comparing 
the present with the past, or looking forwards to the 
future, perceives or apprehends a disagreeable 
change of circumstances or of state ; and is in- 
censed against the offending cause. When the 
first impulse subsides, it is succeeded by the affec- 
tions of grief, resentment^ indignation, &c. according 
to the nature of the insult suffered, or the aggrava- 
tions of the offence, and these become durable as 
the idea or perception of the injury received. 

Nor does the transition which it sometimes made 
from affection to passion invalidate these remarks. 
It has been observed, that when the object possesses 
many complicated and interesting circumstances, 
these, by being placed before the memory, and dis 



( J6 AFFECTIONS, &C. 

tinctly examined, may gradually warm the imagina- 
tion, and increase the strength of the affection, until 
the party be worked up into violent emotions. But 
when the passions are excited in this manner, they 
are also of short duration. The preternatural state 
of mind demands too great an expenditure of ani- 
mal spirits, to render the passion lasting ; and it soon 
relapses into the kindred affection. In cases deem- 
ed peculiarly interesting, and in persons of quick 
and lively feelings, gusts and fits of passion may be 
frequently excited by the same cause, and the mind 
may be placed alternately under the influence of 
the passion and affection : but wherever passions 
and emotions are permanently vehement, it becomes 
an indication of insanity. It is a morbid irritation, 
over which reason has totally lost its controling 
power. 

The permanent Affections are therefore to be con- 
sidered as constituting that habitual state of mind, 
into which the primary passion impelled it. Our 
ideas, and with them our affections, concerning the 
object, are now changed. Instead of our former 
indifference, we contemplate it with some degree of 
pleasure or pain, become habitually attached to it, 
or indulge an habitual aversion respecting it. 

Thus it is obvious that none of the leading pas- 
sions and emotions constitute our permanent Wel- 
fare, or the contrary. They simply manifest the 
first impression which the sudden change of our state 
has made upon us. The lasting effects, in conse- 
quence of this change, are to be learned from the 
Affections. If the Good introduced by Joy prove 
itself to be a lasting good, though it may be partial 
and incomplete, it may inspire Contentment. If it 
be the completion of an ardent desire, it communi- 
cates Satisfaction. If it meet with approbation, 
and be reflected upon as the result of a plan well- 
intended, wisely formed, and successfully executed, 
it becomes the source of Complacency. Fear sinks 
into permanent Dread, or unmixed with any parti- 



PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS. 137 

cle of hope, into lasting Despair ; Sorrow into con- 
firmed Melancholy ; and Anger into Resentment 
and Displacency. 



OBSERVATION III. 

RELATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS TO 
EACH OTHER. 

It has frequently been remarked, that the influ- 
ence of any particular passion or emotion, disposes 
the mind to be subjected to some other that is of a 
similar nature and tendency ; while it places the 
disposition at a remote distance from the affections 
of a contrary complexion. Dr. Hartley has observ- 
ed, correspondent to the grand division of the pas- 
sions which he had adopted, that " the five grateful 
passions, Love, Desire, Hope, Joy, and pleasing 
Recollection enhance each other; as do the five 
ungrateful ones, Hatred, Aversion, Fear, Grief, and 
Displeasure." Addison, Hume, Lord Kaims, have 
made similar remarks, and have adduced the asso- 
ciation of ideas as the cause. But as the temper 
of mind produced by one affection, predisposes to 
the affection which is most analogous, though it may 
not be immediately dependant upon it, may we not 
infer that the association of the Affections will be 
prior to, and introduce that of Ideas ? 

Thus, according to the division which has been 
adopted in this Treatise, not only are gladness, 
cheerfulness, mirth, contentment, satisfaction, com- 
placency, &c. the offspring of Joy, but while the 
mind is under their pleasing influence, it is dispos- 
ed to every affection of the pleasing kind, which 
may be inspired by very different causes, or by cir- 
cumstances too trivial to excite either of these emo- 
tions, or affections, in its calm and influenced state 
of mind. Let us suppose, for example, the excit- 
ing cause to consist in something merely personal ; 
12* 



138 RELATION OF 

vet the pleasing sensation produced, inclines at the 
moment, to the affections of generosity, charity, 
sympathy, compassion and mercy : nay, at such sea- 
sons, it is disposed to expand, that it may embrace 
all mankind ; and the humbler acts of virtue, with 
which we might have been contented, at another 
period, will now appear contracted and unsatisfac* 
tory. 

Upon this principle is the custom manifestly found- 
ed, of making valuable presents to the messengers 
of welcome tidings, or rewarding them with some 
peculiar marks of complacency : a custom which 
has been practised in every age and nation. The 
overflowings of joy inspire a generosity of temper, 
which absolutely requires an object ; and none can 
immediately appear more meritorious, than the per- 
son who has been the instrument, as it were, or the 
instrumental cause of Joy. The delectable sensa- 
tion communicated to the mind of the principal par- 
ticipant, immediately excites in his breast a grateful 
affection for the person whose communications have 
been the cause of it ; though he may have merely 
acted in an official capacity ; and possibly, contrary 
to his secret inclinations. The liberation of cap- 
tives, and prisoners of various descriptions, upon 
accession to the throne : — the institution of sports 
and pastimes, that joy may be diffused among the 
multitude, upon events apparently replete with much 
future happiness, as on births, marriages, and on 
the arrival of a young heir to the possession of an 
ample fortune ; — the pleasing incitements of illu- 
minations, fire-works, distributing good cheer to the 
populace, are universally felt as harmonizing with 
the exhilarated state of mind, which welcome ti- 
dings, of a private or public nature, are calculated 
to excite. In like manner does the lustre of great 
actions inspire us with a certain respect for those 
most intimately connected with the Agent, whom 
we consider as the parent stock, productive of me- 
rit in every ramification ; or as able to shed desert 



PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS. 139 

over every connexion. Under the influence of 
these grateful and liberal principles, we are induced 
to imagine that children are entitled to share the 
rewards due to their parents. Hence those heredi- 
tary honours which too frequently irradiate the un- 
worthy, and demonstrate that the generous infe- 
rence is not always conclusive. 

From these associating affections it proceeds, that 
the perception of good qualities centered in the 
Mind of any one, disposes to an attachment to his 
Person. Favourable impressions inspire an inclina- 
tion to cultivate friendship ; and friendship between 
the sexes has a powerful tendency to inspire love. 
That love, which, in delicate minds, appears to be 
at the remotest distance from every thing sensual, 
will finally excite the stronger and warmer passions. 
Nor are we without many instances of these be- 
coming most impetuous, from their being founded 
upon sentimental refinements. 

As the passion of sorrow proceeds from the loss 
of what we have loved, it may imperceptibly dis- 
pose, — in persons whose passions are strong but 
very transient, — to the affection of Love towards 
the object commiserating our loss. No one can 
appear so worthy of the transfer, as the friend who 
sympathizes deeply with the affliction. The Poet 
has justly observed that " Pity is akin to love," In 
these moments, the commiserator forgets every 
fault, even where he knows that fault exists. He 
brings forward every good quality, which in his opi- 
nion, renders the Afflicted less deserving of their suf- 
ferings. We may also add that the gratitude which 
this pity inspires, is accompanied with the most fa- 
vourable sentiments of the humane disposition, and 
has a tendency to produce a predilection for the 
person of the sympathizer. In short, whatevergives 
birth to any of the kindly affections, may be pro- 
ductive of personal predilections, and terminate in 
love, both as an affection and a passion. Othello 
says of Pesdemona, 



140 RELATION OP 

" She lov ; d me for the dangers I had pass'd. 
And I lov'd her that she did pity them." 

Nor can the dramatic Writer be accused of ex- 
aggeration, who represents the beautiful and accom- 
plished Zemira, as passionately fond of the gene- 
rous monster Azore, whom she at first viewed with 
horror and detestation. 

To this pleasing association is it also to be ascrib- 
ed, that we are so prone to be blind to the faults of 
those we love. We are eager to represent to our- 
selves those persons who have taken possession of 
our esteem, as being entirely worthy of it. We 
dwell upon every good quality ; we forget, or dis- 
cover excuses for every defect. 

It has been remarked, more than once, that when- 
ever an amorous temper has taken a religious turn, 
it excels in the warmth and fervour of its devotion. 
We might urge as an apology, that what appears 
excellent can alone be the object of love ; and 
where the mind is peculiarly susceptible of excel- 
lence, it will evince the warmth and strength of its 
affection, whether it be placed on our own species, 
or on beings of a superior order. 

These two causes united may serve to explain a 
fact, which has been noted by Rousseau and many 
others, that the language of religion and of love is 
so very similar. The Lover also has his idol ; 
adores her perfections, calls her angelic ; talks of al- 
tars, prostrations, vows, sacrifices, 4'C That is, what 
is human, in the warmth of his affection, he contem- 
plates as divine; and the person who has some strik- 
ing accomplishments, he pronounces to be perfec- 
tion itself. 

The connexion between the disagreeable passions 
and affections is not less obvious. The various af- 
fections originating from the idea of Evil, whether 
it be past, present, or apprehended, are so closely 
united, that they can scarcely be considered as il- 
lustrations of the subject. We are, for example, 
disposed to be angry at whatever occasions sorrow. 



PASSIONS AXD AFFESTIONS. 141 

and there is a vindictiveness in fear, which may ren- 
der it dangerous to its most innocent cause. But 
predispositions to the indulgence of unpleasant af- 
fections, are generated in cases where the connex- 
ion is not so immediate. Disagreeable feelings, 
induced by their proper object, are productive of 
other disagreeable affections, where, strictly speak- 
ing, there is no proper object. Whatever irritates, 
renders the mind impatient, peevish, quarrelsome ; 
disposes it to magnify trifles into real grievances, 
and to imagine a just cause of offence, where, per- 
haps, approbation has been merited. It engenders 
suspicions and jealousies, and disposes to envy the 
peace, tranquillity, or good fortune of another. In 
this state of mind, a transition is also made from 
things to persons, and some degree of guilt is impu- 
ted to the latter, in consequence of the evil passions 
stirred up by the former. It is upon ihis principle 
that Tyrants have been known to sacrifice, in the 
impetuosity of their vexation and rage, the innocent 
messengers of evil tidings. Thus has Homer, that 
faithful historian of nature, represented Agamemnon, 
as pouring out a torrent of invectives against the 
harmless and venerable priest, who was compelled, 
by virtue of his office., to utter unwelcome truths. 

i( The Prophet spoke : when with a gloomy frown 
The monarch started from his shining throne ; 
Black choler filPd his breast, that boil'd with ire, 
And from his eye-balls flash'd the living fire. 
Augur accurst ! denouncing mischief still, 
Prophet of plagues, for ever boding ill ! 
Still must that tongue some wounding message bring, 
And still thy priestly pride provoke thy King ?" 

pope's homer, il. i. l. 127. 

It is thus that not only the " Genus Irritabile Vaturnf 
but controversial authors of all descriptions, have 
been so prone, in defence of their particular senti- 
ments against their opponent, to descend to person- 
alities. Theologians in particular have been accus- 
tomed to evince their zeal for sacred truths, by the 
most unchristian hatred against the imagined sup-? 



142 RELATION OP 

porters of error ; and they have not failed to ascribe 
unworthy motives, or depravity of heart, to those 
who remain unconvinced by the force of their argu- 
ments. This is the latent cause of all those religious 
persecutions, which have deluged the world with 
blood, and disgraced humanity. 

As, in the transports of Gratitude, we are dispos- 
ed to imagine virtues, where they do not exist, thus 
in the transports of resentment, we are prone to the 
contrary extreme. A single cause of enmity black- 
ens the whole character of our antagonist ; and the 
man who has been guilty of one fault, that touches 
us to the quick, becomes, to an heated imagination, 
the vilest of miscreants. The friends and connex- 
ions of the Aggressor, are also considered as parti- 
cipants in his crimes : nay, the adherents and de- 
pendants upon the grand offender, are contaminated 
by his guilt. Thus have towns and countries been 
laid waste without remorse ; murder and rapine 
have been deemed laudable ; and the sacrifice of 
thousands, in resentment of the vices and disorders 
of a few, has been frequently celebrated, as an hero- 
ic display of vindictive justice ! Hence it is that dis- 
grace of character is unjustly spread over a whole 
family, on account of the ill conduct or ignominious 
punishment of one of its members. Even the un- 
conscious instruments of mischief, according to this 
propensity of our nature, are frequently treated as 
guilty, or as participants in the crime. Imprudent 
parents have thus nourished a spirit of revenge in 
their children, by encouraging them to beat the 
playthings which have accidentally given them pain, 
or the ground against which they have fallen. 

It is recorded of the celebrated Cranmer, who 
flourished in the reign of Queen Mary, that having 
repented of his impiety in yielding to the solicita- 
tions of the priesthood, and seductive promises of 
the court, and signed an acknowledgment of the 
Pope's supremacy, when he was brought to the in- 
fernal stake, he resolutely held the offending hand in 



PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS. 143 

the flames, till it was consumed ; from a spirit of 
resentment at its having been the instrument of his 
apostacy. In this singular instance of imputed guilt, 
our sympathy with the sufferings of the unfortunate 
man, our admiration of his magnanimity, and our 
surprise at the strange manner in which he indicated 
a pious indignation at his former conduct, furnishes 
an apology for an act, which, under other circum-' 
stances, must have been contemplated as the excess 
of childish cruelty. (See Hume's History of Eng- 
land, Vol. iv. p. 431.) — For the same reason we 
admire the undaunted courage of Mucius Ssevola. 
who, as we are informed by Florus, thrust his hand 
into the fire, because it had not succeeded in its at- 
tempt to strike the King of Etruria, But had he 
caused a Dependant to be punished in this manner, 
for a similar failure, he would have been held forth to 
execration. 

It is upon the same principles that the strong im- 
pressions of Fear or of Sorrow, change the appear- 
ance of every thing around us. Every trifle be- 
comes the cause of terror ; and every object loses 
its power to charm, unless it should administer to 
our melancholy. Sorrow naturally disposes to im- 
patience, discontent, and fearful apprehension, in 
cases which have no connexion with the primitive 
cause. Heavy disappointment, where expectation 
was ill-founded, forbids us to indulge hope where 
the encouragement is the greatest. Fear and dread 
dispose to cruelty, to treachery, and sometimes to 
acts of desperation which resemble courage. 

As the passions and affections which are most 
analogous to each other, so readily blend together, 
or succeed in an easy currency, it is natural to sup- 
pose that those which are of an opposite nature and 
tendency must be repulsive ; as joy and sorrow, 
hope and fear, love and hatred. For although com- 
plicated circumstances may place the mind under 
their influence, at the same period, yet the one is 
calculated to oppose and check the other 5 each ex- 



144 RELATION OF 

erting its characteristic influence. Thus when the 
success of any desired event is partial, sorrow may 
accompany joy. The effects of glad tidings are 
rendered incomplete, by the addition of some mourn- 
ful catastrophe. When victory, for example, is 
purchased by the death of a friend, or of a favourite 
general. In such chequered incidents, the mind 
passes over from one event to the other, and feels 
the influence of each, separately and alternately. 
In cases of a dubious nature, the mind is sometimes 
stagnated, or suspended between hope and fear ; and 
sometimes agitated by each passion by turns. In 
this manner may love have some intercourse with 
anger ; as in parents, whose resentment, at the im- 
proper conduct of their children, may even be in-, 
spired by the warmest affection ; and the lover may 
be tormented by the caprices of his mistress, whom 
he cannot resolve to hate. The opposite passions 
and affections are, in instances of the like nature, 
excited by different and opposite circumstances, re- 
siding in the same exciting cause ; each producing 
its own characteristic effect. 

Fear, anxiety, and joy in the extreme are so dia- 
metrically opposite, and their pathological effects 
upon the system so contrary, that an immediate 
transition from the one to the other is extremely 
difficult, if not impossible ; and by the violence 
committed upon the animal system, it might be pro- 
ductive of fatal consequences. It is observable that 
in such cases, the salutary transition is made through 
the medium of the pathological effects, which are 
the usual indications of Sorrow. Tears and joyful 
lamentations are the first tokens of the removal of 
excessive fear. A sudden relaxation, as it were, 
succeeds to the agnonizing constriction which ac- 
companies that passion, and this prepares the mind 
for the pleasing vivacity which is the natural cha- 
racter of joy. Every medical practitioner, as often 
as he has assisted at any painful and dangerous ope- 
ration, which has proved successful, must have ob- 



PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS. 145 

served these effects produced upon the sympathi- 
zing attendants ; and every affectionate Female 
will recollect these singular emotions, upon the 
happy delivery of her friend, whom she has suppos- 
ed to be in imminent danger. The singularity may 
perhaps be explained in the following manner. 
Previous to the fortunate issue, Sorrow for the suf- 
ferings of the distressed object, and anxious Fears 
respecting the event, were intimately blended to- 
gether ; while the pathological tokens of the latter 
suppressed those of the former. Upon the sudden 
removal of Fear, its characteristic restrictions are 
removed, the residue of Sorrow becomes perma- 
nent ; and the agitated spirits are tranquillized by 
the effusion of tears. 

A melancholy state of mind is most soothed, at 
the commencement, by what seems to feed its me- 
lancholy. The excess of grief will listen to no- 
thing which is not somewhat in unison with it. It 
may afterwards be alleviated by a degree of cheer- 
fulness, in a friend who has wept for the distress, 
and whose sympathy has thus inspired a confidence. 
But no greater violence can be committed upon 
persons in the anguish of sorrow, than an attempt 
at gaiety, or the proposition of frivolous amuse- 
ments. 

Nothing so effectually subdues the violence of 
Anger, as the fortunate suggestion of ludicrous 
ideas. Whatever excites a smile or a laugh, excites 
a sensation totally incompatible with rage, or with 
deep resentment. It has often happened that a 
something ridiculous, in the ideas or conduct of 
the offender, has averted the punishment due to his 
carelessness and inadvertency ; or that some gay 
and cheerful thought has at once obliterated resent- 
ment, against a conduct not entirely trivial. We 
are told by ancient fabulists, that when Apollo was 
about to shoot Mercury, who was disguised as a 
herdsman, being incensed at this thievish deity, for 
having stolen some cattle which Apollo was destin- 

13 



146 SEAT OF THE 

edto watch, he applied to his quiver for an arrow> 
in order to revenge the offence ; but discovering 
that the arch thief had prevented the effects of his 
anger, by previously stealing all the arrows, he was 
so diverted at the jest that his anger immediately 
subsided. Iracundiam voluptate superante. 

In the quarrel between Jupiter and Juno, Homer 
represents the Queen of Heaven as terrified into si- 
lence, and merely attempting to suppress the signs 
of a resentment, which she could not subdue. But 
he informs us, that it was the jest of Vulcan, in 
taking upon him an office, for which he was so 
ill qualified, and becoming cupbearer, which effec- 
tually restored mirth and good-humour among the 
Celestials. 

Vulcan with awkward grace his office plies ; 
And unextinguished laughter shakes the skies. 



OBSERVATION IV. 

ON THE SEAT OF THE PASSIONS. 

It is usual for Writers on the Passions to specu- 
late concerning their Seat, whether it be in the. 
spiritual, or in the animated material part of Man. 
Some philosophers place the passions solely in the 
corporeal system. Among these was the celebrated 
Des Cartes. Mr. Grove, on the contrary, defines the 
passions to be " the affections attended with pecu- 
liar and extraordinary motions of the animal spirits j^ 
and in opposition to the sentiments of Des Cartes, 
he says, " I am inclined to think that a sensation of 
the soul generally precedes a change in the spirits ; 
external objects not being able to raise a ferment in 
the spirits, till they have first struck the mind with 
an idea of something noble, frightful, amiable, &c." 

Others again, ascribe some of the affections to the 
animal principle, and some to the rational. Dr. 



PASSIONS. 147 

Reid is in doubt whether " the principle of esteem^ 
as well as gratitude, ought to be reckoned in the 
order of animal principles, or if they ought not ra- 
ther to be placed in a higher order." He has 
finally, however, placed the esteem of the Wise and 
Good in the order of animal principles ; not from 
any persuasion that it is to be found in brute animals, 
but because it appears in the most unimproved, and 
the most degenerate part of our species, even in 
those in whom we hardly perceive any exertion 
either of reason or of virtue. 

But, what is still more singular, the same affection 
is sometimes placed, by this philosopher, under the 
animal, and sometimes under the rational principle. 
Speaking of resentment he observes, " that sudden 
or instinctive resentment is an animal principle, 
common to us with brute animals ; but that resent- 
ment, which some authors call deliberate, must fall 
under the class of rational principles." He also 
excludes " the parental affection from the rational 
principle, because it is not grounded on an opinion 
of merit in the object." (See Reid's Essays on the 
active powers of Man. Es. in. Ch. 4.) 

This contrariety of opinions among philosophers 
themselves, the vague conjectures and arbitrary 
positions they have advanced, too plainly evince 
that we are not prepared for disquisitions of this 
kind. They prove that it will be impossible to ar- 
range the passions and affections, with any preci- 
sion, under these two heads, until we shall have ob- 
tained more accurate ideas of the nature of the ra- 
tional and spiritual part of man, on the one hand, 
and of the vivified matter which is supposed to con- 
stitute his animal nature on the other. 

Those who place the passions, or any of the af- 
fections, in the Body, confess that it must be an ani- 
mated Body. But they do not explain to us the 
cause of this animation ; or what is that vivifying 
principle, which so wonderfully changes the proper- 
ties of the dead, insensible, inactive matter. When 



148 SEAT OF THE 

we shall know the Cause of sensation or of percep- 
tion, in its lowest stage ; and when we shall have 
discovered tchat that is which thinks, reasons, and 
wills, we may be better qualified to decide concern- 
ing the seat of the passions and emotions. 

The reason which induced Des Cartes and others, 
to make all the affections sensual, is obvious. It is 
easy to perceive that we cannot ascribe affections to 
the spiritual part of man. without admitting the 
passions also ; nor these without being perplexed 
with the appetites ; which, although confessedly sen- 
sual. frequently excite those emotions and passions, 
which must be ascribed to the Spirit, if it be suscep- 
tible of emotions. But this combination, or recipro- 
cal influence, they deem to be totally inconsistent 
with those intellectual honours which they are soli- 
citous of ascribing, exclusively, to our spiritual na- 
tures. 

Dr. Reid's embarrassment seems to arise from the 
expectation that the rational principle must always 
act rationally : which leads him to infer that when- 
ever the passions and affections do not receive the 
sanction of reason, they are to be assigned over to 
the animal principle. But this hypothesis will tempt 
us to doubt of the very existence of the rational prin- 
ciple, in numbers of our species. It leads us to con- 
clude that the two natures, deemed so diametrically 
opposite to each other, possess powers so perfectly 
similar, that it is difficult for the keenest discernment 
to distinguish between their operations : and it com- 
pels us to infer, that whenever some of our affections 
become conformable to reason, they have changed 
their seat from the animal to the rational principle. 

Philosophers and Divines, who distinguish Man 
into the three several parts of Body. Soul, and Spi- 
rit, which, notwithstanding the intimacy of their 
union, they suppose to be different in their natures : 
ascribe the appetites to the Body, the passions and 
affections to the Soul, and to the Spirit, those intel- 
lectual powers which seem remote from passions or 



PASSIONS. 149 

emotions of any kind. By such an arrangement 
they mean to compliment the Spirit with the most 
exalted station : but the honour, like many other 
projects of ambition, is entirely at the expense of its 
happiness. If the affections pertain to the Soul ex- 
clusively, that alone is capable of enjoying. The 
Spirit is deprived of every motive for speculation ; 
and since it sometimes happens that speculations of 
the most obtuse kind, excite pleasing sensations, the 
Spirit must certainly perceive, though it has no facul- 
ties to lament its hard lot, as often as it is conscious 
that these delightful sensations, which are its own 
work, are transferred to the Soul. 

Without entering therefore into inquiries of this 
nature, which for want of data must be conjectural 
and unsatisfactory, it will be more correspondent 
with my plan, simply to state interesting facts, and 
leave it to the Metaphysician to draw such conse- 
quences as he may deem most legitimate. 

It must be admitted that every passion, emotion, 
and affection, proceeds from certain impressions or 
ideas excited, concerning the nature, orstate, or qua- 
lity, or agency of the exciting cause. These Ideas 
have undoubtedly their seat in that part of man we 
distinguish by the appellation of mind. The excit- 
ing cause therefore changes the state of the Mind, 
respecting the particular object. From total indif- 
ference it becomes some way or other interested. 
This new impression, if it possess a certain degree of 
strength, produces a correspondent change upon the 
body. Universal observation and universal phraseo- 
logy, which is doubtless founded upon this observa- 
tion, unite to evince that a very perceptible influence 
of every strong emotion is directed towards the 
heart. The Heart experiences various kinds of sen- 
sation, pleasant or unpleasant, over which it has no 
controul ; and from thence the influence of agitated 
spirits seems to be diffused over the body. Their 
more gentle effects are not visible to the spectator j 
nav. the subject himself is not conscious perhaps of 
13* 



150 SEAT OF THE 

any thing more than, either a change of sentiment, 
or the perception of the stronger influence of a form* 
er sentiment, connected with something agreeable 
or disagreeable in this perception ; a something which 
attaches more strongly to the object, or creates some 
degree of repugnance. This state of mind is styled 
an affection, and it appears to be totally mental ; but 
stronger influences produce such changes, that the 
inward disposition becomes obvious to the spectators, 
through the medium of the corporeal frame. It is 
now called an emotion, and this may increase in 
strength until the whole system becomes agitated 
and convulsed. 

From this statement it appears incontestible, that 
the Affections and Passions have their origin in the 
Mind, while Emotions are corporeal indications of 
what passes within ; according to the conjecture ex- 
pressed by Mr. Grove. 

It also proves, that to confine the affections to the 
Mind, and refer the passions to the animal principle, 
is to theorize in opposition to facts. For numerous 
instances have presented themselves, in the course 
of our Analysis, which indicate that the difference 
between the gentlest affection and the most turbu- 
lent passions, consists in degree, not in nature. What- 
ever produces silent satisfaction, in its mildest influ- 
ence, will produce the extravagance of joy in its 
strongest. Fearful apprehension, in its excess, is 
terror ; and displeasure, in its most inordinate ex- 
ertions, is rage. When the gentlest affections are 
rendered conspicuous, their existence is known by 
some visible change produced in the countenance, 
through the medium of the nervous system ; while 
the most violent agitations of the mind, operating up- 
on the same nervous system, produce ungovernable 
transports. Hence it is rational to infer, that the 
finest affections, and the strongest passions, are 
equally sensitive, or equally spiritual in their natures. 

It is natural for those who favour the hypothe- 
sis, that man consists of u different natures marvel- 



PASSIONS. 151 

lously mixt," to ascribe the appetites solely to the 
corporeal system, or to the animal nature of man, 
and to call them carnal, because the immediate ob* 
jects of the appetites relate to the wants and grati- 
fications of the body. But do they recollect that 
these appetites are frequently awakened by the at- 
tention paid by the Mind, to their particular objects, 
exciting Concupiscence, which is always attributed 
to the Mind ? When the -desires considered as 
carnal, are excited by a particular state of the 
body, that is by certain changes made in the cor- 
poreal system, which generate particular wants, as 
in the sensations of hunger and thirst, the mental 
part of our nature is immediately conscious of 
these uneasy sensations, wills to remove them, and 
expects gratification in attending to the demands 
of appetite. Thus the whole man becomes inte- 
rested, without the possibility of placing a barrier, 
to arrest the operations of the mind, and render 
the appetite purely corporeal. 

When the power of immediate gratification is 
possessed, none of the accessary passions and emo- 
tions are called forth, and, in some cases, we are 
not conscious of mental exertions. But if the 
gratification cannot be immediate ; if it be uncer- 
tain ; if any formidable impediments present them- 
selves ; then the whole soul is powerfully aroused : 
hopes and fears are excited concerning the event : 
anger and jealousies are indulged against rivals and 
causes of impediments ; sorrows and vexations are 
inspired by our disappointment. These betray the 
interest which the Mind has taken in pleasures 
which are termed sensual. Where the indulgence 
has been illicit, repentance also, and remorse con- 
fess that the soul feels itself responsible for gratifi- 
cations which are deemed merely carnal. 

On the other hand, the finer affections of Love, 
such as the filial, the parental, the social ; and be- 
nevolence in its more tranquil exertions, being so 
much exalted above the appearance of every thing 



152 SEAT OF THE 

selfish, and having no immediate personal gratifi- 
cation for their object, are generally attributed to 
the higher principle in our nature. But the love 
of beauty and of attractive qualifications between 
the sexes, becoming sexual, may create desires de- 
nominated carnal ; and benevolence becoming sym- 
pathy and compassion with deep distress, produces 
the corporeal effects of agonizing grief or fear, and 
is virtually as sensual or carnal as any of the appe- 
tites ; though usage is offended at such an applica- 
tion of the terms. 

Thus it appears that the grand principles of love 
and hatred, desire and aversion, produce their ef- 
fects upon the whole system, when they operate 
with a certain degree of force : though for the sake 
of discrimination we give different names to these 
effects ; and to manifest our sense of the superiority 
of one class of our desires and affections, when 
compared with another, we annex various degrees 
of respectability to those which are most remote 
from the gratification of corporeal wants. 

When the affections of love and desire are placed 
upon objects deemed the most sensual, they are 
called appetites ; and they are stigmatized with the 
epithet of carnal appetites, because they are merely 
corporeal in their object, and are peculiarly liable 
to the most shameful abuse. They begin and ter- 
minate in gratifications which do not call forth one 
amiable quality, or respectable exertion of the 
Mind. When indulged within the limits permit- 
ted, they are void of merit ; if illegitimate, or in- 
dulged to excess, they are accounted ignominious. In 
this singular predicament are those gratifications, 
which have for their final cause, the support or pro- 
duction of life, exclusively placed. 

The finer species of corporeal enjoyments, re- 
ject the degrading epithets of sensual and car- 
nal with disdain. No one is said to be carnally 
disposed, when his ears are gratified with the 
charms of music ; when his eye surveys the 



PASSIONS. 153 

beauties of nature. He is not charged with hav- 
ing an insatiable Appetite for paintings, or con- 
demned for inordinate Concupiscence, though he 
should expend his fortune in making purchases, or 
exhaust his health by incessant application to the 
art. For though his senses are equally gratified, as 
in the other instances, yet the enjoyment is fur- 
nished by objects which are more dignified in their 
nature, and have been the result of skill and inge- 
nuity. It is here that merit commences, both in 
the power of enjoyment, and in the power of exe- 
cution ; and language distinguishes gratifications, 
from these sources, by the more elevated appella- 
tion of taste. This very term, by the way, is an in- 
dication of the power of the object of our pursuit, 
to elevate our ideas, respecting the expressions em- 
ployed. The word taste, although it is a metaphor 
borrowed from one of the carnal sensations, loses 
the grossness of its original meaning in the new 
mode of its application. It is ennobled by its ob- 
ject, till we forget that it is of a plebeian origin. 

The pleasure derived from agreeable odours 
being, as it were, the medium between the grosser 
appetites, and the pleasure inspired by harmonious 
sounds, or the objects of vision, neither exposed to 
the disgrace of the former, not possessing the merit 
of the latter, has no epithet either of contempt or 
respectability. 

When Love and Desire are placed upon nobler 
objects than any of the preceding ; such as know- 
ledge, virtue, or any other mental qualification, 
the superior dignity of these pursuits, and their ele- 
vation above every thing deemed sensual, and above 
the gratification of a refined taste, confer a dignity 
upon the affections themselves, until they seem to 
be of a higher origin, and emulate every thing we 
can conceive of the most exalted Spirits. For we 
cannot entertain more elevated sentiments of im- 
material created Intelligences, than that they pos- 
sess an ardent love of knowledge, wisdom, and 
moral obligation. 



154 SEAT OF THE 

Nor have we any reason to ascribe those powers of 
the mind, which by way of pre-eminence we deno- 
minate intellectual, to any other principle than that 
which is the source of the affections, and is interest- 
ed in the cravings of the appetites. The state of 
mind, and its conscious perceptions, must vary ac- 
cording to the kind employment in which it is en- 
gaged. When its occupation is simply to investigate 
truths of any kind, to examine, deliberate, judge, 
and resolve, it is in a very different state, than when 
it is forcibly struck with the beneficial or pernicious 
nature and tendency of these truths, or of any in- 
fluential quality with which it is become acquaint- 
ed. It contemplates abstract ideas, which may 
have a distant reference to utility, in a mood very 
different from that which it experiences when very 
attractive, or very alarming properties present them- 
selves to the imagination, whose influence upon our 
well-being seems to be direct and immediate. 

Yet in the calmer exercise of the mind, in its 
most abstruse speculations, there is a species of 
permanent pleasure of which it is conscious, and 
which is preferred by the philosopher, to the stron- 
gest emotions, which are as transient as they are 
violent ; until by some new and interesting dis- 
covery, he is surprised into joy, or intricacies occur 
which disturb and irritate. He then experiences, 
that passions and emotions will sometimes intrude 
themselves into the apartment, where the door 
seems to be most obstinately shut against them. 
Nor can his more tranquil pleasures be ascribed to 
any other cause than to a strong predilection for 
the study which most occupies his attention, to his 
love of knowledge, to the gratification of his curi- 
osity, to the satisfaction derived from the enlarge- 
ment of his ideas and improvement of his under- 
standing, to his ardent desire of discovering some- 
thing which may extend his fame, or prove benefi- 
cial to humanity ; that is, to honourable, noble, and 
useful affections. 



PASSIONS* 155 

The Reader will perceive that these remarks 
have not the most distant reference to the grand 
question, concerning the materiality or immeteriali- 
ty of the Soul. They are simply opposed to those 
unfounded hypotheses, and vague conjectures, which, 
instead of explaining any one phenomenon, render 
our ideas more embarrassed. They indicate that 
we ought not to multiply principles, until we are 
qualified to assign to them their distinct offices, 
without encroachments or confusion. What can be 
more unsatisfactory than to suppose the existence 
of principles, totally opposite in their natures, in 
order to explain the contrarieties observable in 
human character and conduct ; and yet to allow 
that, in some instances, the operations of these prin- 
ciples are so similar, that philosophers themselves 
cannot ascertain the distinct province of each ? Or 
what can be more superfluous than to imagine the 
existence of these distinct principles, merely to 
confer honour upon the one, and load the other 
with disgrace, when the nature of the object pursu- 
ed, and the disposition towards it, will solve every 
difficulty : will indicate an exalted or a depraved 
state of the Mind, without suggesting a single doubt 
whether the spiritual man ought, in any respect, to 
become responsible for the disgraceful propensities 
of the carnal man, with whom he is compelled to 
inhabit ? 

It has been alleged that, during the impetus of 
passion, the soul is in a state of much greater acti- 
vity than at any other period. In most instances 
that is probably the case. Yet we should recollect 
that during the excitements of passion, the soul 
must necessarily manifest the greatest activity to 
the spectator, from its peculiar exertions upon the 
corporeal system. Whereas in the exercise of 
deep thought, the activity of the soul is concentrat- 
ed within. Of consequence, when the mind is ab- 
sorbed in profound meditation, instead of indicating 
more activity than usual, the external appearance 



156 CAUSES, &c. 

will indicate less. Hence it is that deep thinkers 
are so frequently confounded, by those who are not 
deep thinkers, with the stupid. In such cases, the 
activity of the soul can discover itself only by the 
result of its labours ; or by the injuries which in- 
tense application may have committed upon the 
constitution. Instances have existed in which 
mental occupation has produced an insensibility to 
every foreign impression. The subject has re- 
mained unmoved, in the midst of scenes calculated 
to excite the most horrid tumults of soul. When 
the Philosopher of Syracuse was so wrapped in 
contemplation, as to be insensible to all the hor- 
rors of a siege, his mind could not be less active 
than theirs who were the most agitated, by the 
scenes of complicated distress which surrounded 
them. 



CHAPTER II. 

CAUSES WHICH CREATE A DIVERSITY IN OUR 
AFFECTIONS, ENUMERATED. 

It may seem natural to expect that men, formed 
with similar, and often with equal powers of dis- 
criminating the nature of objects, — in whom the 
sensations of pleasure and pain, happiness or misery, 
are also similar — and who are exposed to similar 
causes of excitement, should indicate a correspon- 
dent similarity in their affections, instead of such a 
diversity which is so conspicuous, not only in dif- 
ferent persons, but frequently in the same person. 
It is well known that the predilections of individu- 
als, for the supposed means of happiness, are ex- 
tremely various ; that one man will pursue with 
ardour, what another will contemplate with indif- 
ference, or with disapprobation and disgust. Nor 
is there any person who entertains, invariably, the 



INFLUENCE OF EXPERIENCE. 167 

»ame disposition towards the same object. At one 
instant, he will not only feel a much stronger af- 
fection for it than he did at the preceding, but he 
may to-day contemplate, with contempt and abhor- 
rence, that which yesterday may have excited rap- 
tures. 

It is of considerable moment to trace the princi- 
pal causes of these diversities, or point out some of 
the circumstances which have a very powerful in- 
fluence over our minds. The number and extent 
of these will permit little more than an enumeration. 

§ 1. The influence of Experience, 

These di versities and changes may, in many cases, 
be ascribed to the difference observable between 
the suggestions of a lively imagination, and the more 
faithful reports of Experience. Our preconceptions 
are seldom accurate. If they be not entirely false, 
or totally opposite to the nature of the subject, they 
are almost sure to err on the side of excess or of 
defect. Experience, in numberless instances, cor- 
rects such errors, and teaches us to estimate the 
qualities of objects as they really exist, and not ac- 
cording to a prejudiced conception, or an heated 
imagination. This will of consequence teach us 
highly to prize many things, which we had before 
neglected or despised, and to dismiss, with indiffe- 
rence and contempt, many things on which a delu- 
ded imagination had placed our supreme happiness. 
Such changes will take place in every individual in 
his passage through life. Their nature, and the 
uses made of them, constitute the difference be- 
tween the wise man and the fool. 

But there are many other causes, which act more 
uniformly, upon whole classes and bodies of people, 
and give to each class a certain cast of character. 
Some of these are very similar in their effects : 
others dissimilar, irregular, and capricious. 

Among those which are more uniform in their in- 
14 



158 CAUSES, &c. 

fluence, may be placed the distinctions in character 
and dispositions observable in the 

§ 2. Difference of Sex, 

In most animals, of the inferior order, there is a 
manifest difference between the male and female, 
both in external appearance and instinctive proper- 
ties, the former being generally of a stronger make 
than the latter ; and excepting at the moments when 
the powers of the female are called forth to the 
protection of their young, more courageous in dis- 
position. 

Similar laws manifestly prevail in the human spe- 
cies. The very form and constitution of the Man 
indicate that he is rendered capable of more robust 
employments ; and his stronger contexture is, gene- 
rally speaking, connected with a disposition to 
greater exertions : whereas the superior delicacy of 
contexture which distinguishes the Female, is most- 
ly accompanied with a much greater delicacy of 
character. Her dispositions to strong and vigorous 
exertions, either of body or of mind, are not so uni- 
versal, and she generally places her affections upon 
objects and duties which are more confined and do- 
mesticated. 

Nor do the customs prevalent in savage, or less 
polished nations, invalidate the above remarks. In 
those countries where bodily labour, or the fatigues 
of husbandry, are wholly consigned to the females, 
while their husbands appear indolent and inactive, 
this indolence is merely the repose enjoyed in the 
intervals of still greater exertions. War, or the 
chase, are exclusively their province, and when 
engaged in these, the men endure much greater 
fatigues and hardships than those allotted to their 
partners. 

It is readily acknowledged that these peculiarities 
of make and of character, are not so uniform as to 
resist the influence of causes which have a tenden- 



DIFFERENCE OF SEX. 159 

cy to counteract them. Singularity of tempera- 
ment, the force of custom and education, particular 
situations in life, may place individuals of each sex 
out of their proper sphere, and induce a peculiarity 
of individual character. But this change seldom 
meets with the approbation of either sex. An effe- 
minate Man is despised, and a masculine Female 
has little power to charm. 

An essential difference is also observable in sexual 
predilections. The female prefers the strong, the 
bold and courageous, the spirited and enterprising. 
Her ideas of beauty and comeliness, are, instinctive- 
ly, such as correspond the least with the delicacy of 
her own person. Men in general are most ena- 
moured of those qualities and dispositions which in- 
dicate a contrary character. They talk of the de- 
licacy of form and amiable softness of the sex. 
They think that the milder virtues sit with peculiar 
grace upon the female ; such as gentleness, patience, 
compassion, and tenderness. It is expected that 
she should excel in piety, in faith, hope, and resig- 
nation. Men contemplate a female atheist with 
more disgust and horror, than if she possessed the 
hardest features embossed with carbuncles. They 
excuse, and many are disposed to be pleased with, 
such foibles as proceed from delicacy of frame, or 
greater sensibility of mind ; while they express their 
disapprobation of a bold forward temper, though it 
should be accompanied with a great superiority of 
talents. Although moral obligation, as referring to 
the grand standard of virtuous conduct, may be the 
same ; yet the rougher vices of oaths and intoxica- 
tion are appropriated by men ; while the evasive 
ones of artifice, &c. are deemed less opprobrious in 
the female. 

It is maintained that men are most impetuous, but 
that females are most deeply affected with the ten- 
der passion : that if the man have not a Speedy re- 
course to the pistol or the rope, he will probably 
survive the agonies of disappointment, under which 



160 CAUSES, &c. 

the softer sex will gradually pine and die. These 
facts have induced a French author to remark, that 
women consider love as the serious business of life, 
and men render it subordinate to many others. It 
is however universally deemed to be the province of 
man, first to declare his passion ; and it is universal- 
ly expected that the female should receive the de- 
claration with a modest coyness, and experience 
some degree of struggle with her delicacy, before 
she acknowledge the passion to be reciprocal. The 
female has, in general, a stronger affection for every 
thing she pursues than men, who are more frequent- 
ly impelled to act from necessity. She generally 
follows her inclination in the discharge of her social 
and domestic duties, as well as in the pursuits of 
pleasure, elegant accomplishments, or of literature. 
Those who are of a scientific turn, compensate for 
any defect in extent of erudition, or depth of inves- 
tigation, with which they are sometimes charged, by 
brilliancy of language and beauty of sentiment, 
which so frequently pervade and embellish their 
writings. Females are supposed to be much fonder 
of ornaments than those of the other sex, who are 
not reputed fops ; and it is said that they more 
deeply resent any neglect or slight of their persons. 
They are warmer in their friendships, and their 
strong attachments can scarcely be weakened by 
any thing but rivalships. If slighter incidents more 
easily discompose their tempers, this is abundantly 
recompensed by their superior patience under se- 
verer trials. In cases of extreme danger and diffi- 
culty, they have not only been equal to the support 
of their own spirits, but they have set an example 
of heroic courage to their desponding Lords. But 
it is also allowed, that when the female mind be- 
comes thoroughly depraved, they greatly surpass 
the other sex in cruelty, revenge, and every enor- 
mity ; which is justly supposed to elucidate the com- 
mon proverb, " Corruptio optimi est pessimal 
In giving the above epitome, either of facts or 



DIFFERENCE OF SEX. 161 

©pinions, the author has purposely avoided entering 
into the controversy relative to rights and powers,, 
or to Equality or Superiority of capacities. He 
does not wish to draw a comparison between the 
lustre of the respective virtues, or nicely to balance 
the respective vices of each sex. His concern is 
with differences alone. If these exist ; if character- 
istic differences, commencing with early childhood, 
— when the little Miss delights in her doll, and ar- 
ranges her domestic play-things, while her more 
hardy brother is driving a hoop or whipping a top, 
— run through every period of life, it is of no mo- 
ment to the subject under consideration, whether 
they are to be ascribed to natural and physical, or 
to artificial or incidental causes ; or which charac- 
teristics have a preponderancy of excellence. (See 
Note S.) 

This manifest diversity, and in some respects to- 
tal contrariety in disposition and character, is ne- 
cessarily connected with an equal diversity and con- 
trariety of tastes and affections : for the former de- 
rive their origin from the latter ; the character be- 
ing itself both formed and indicated, by a series of 
predilections and aversions. If therefore each sex 
has its distinguishing characteristics, if their tastes 
and inclinations be not precisely similar, sexual dif- 
ference must be productive of different ideas res- 
pecting the qualities of objects, and create the most 
opposite affections respecting them : so that objects 
and circumstances perfectly the same, shall to each 
sex appear in different points of view. That which 
makes little or no impression on the one, being cal- 
culated to produce strong emotions in the other j 
becoming the source of pleasure or displeasure, of 
enjoyment, or of infelicity. 

Another cause which operates in a similar man* 
ner is 

14* 



J 02 CAUSES, <kc. 



§ 3. Diversity of Temperament. 

Not to enter into the physiological characteristic 
of each temperament, concerning which physiolo- 
gists themselves are not agreed, we shall only ob- 
serve, } what has never been disputed, that there is 
such a diversity in the original constitution of indi- 
viduals of each sex, as may not only influence the 
mental powers, but also the affections of the mind ; 
such as may pre-dispose one person to be affected 
by scenes and circumstances, in a manner very dif- 
ferent from another. 

Some are naturally more irritable in their tem- 
pers, others more placid : that is, one will perceive 
and feel causes of provocation in situations or con- 
duct, which excite no emotions in the mind of 
another. Some are naturally of a melancholy cast, 
which spreading a gloom over every object, pre- 
vents them from observing and enjoying those quali- 
ties which may excite cheerful ideas, and commu- 
nicate pleasurable sensations to another. This man 
is naturally sanguine in his disposition : he forms a 
thousand projects, and is full of hopes respecting 
each. He is highly delighted with such prospects 
as are invisible to others ; and is charmed with ideal 
properties, which never entered into the imagina- 
tion of those who are not under the agreeable delu- 
sion. The disappointments to which such a temper 
is inevitably exposed, become plentiful sources of 
vexation, which the less sanguine fortunately es- 
cape. The timid, on the contrary, ruminate over 
every possibility of evil. They dare not to indulge 
hope through fear of disappointment. They see 
and magnify pernicious tendencies, which were to- 
tally overlooked by persons of the contrary disposi- 
tion. Some are naturally indolent ; and this indo- 
lence of temper prevents them from perceiving 
those qualities in objects, which arouse the attention 
of the more active ; and it induces them to give the 



REGULAR PROGRESS, &C. 163 

preference to their beloved ease. Some are of a 
social cast ; and they discover a thousand joys in 
society, which appear indifferent or insipid to the 
lover of retirement. 

Thus is there a natural and habitual disposition, 
to be differently affected by the same objects ; to 
each of which the imagination gives a colouring, 
corresponding with the permanent and characteris- 
tic state of mind. 

Another cause invariably produces a change in our 
ideas and dispositions, towards particular objects. 
in a manner equally uniform and characteristic : 
and that is 

§ 4. The Regular Progress of Human Nature, from 
Infancy to Advanced Age, 

The changes which take place in our affections 
and pursuits, from this cause, are incontestibly mark- 
ed by the hand of .Nature herself; and they main- 
tain a degree of uniformity in every person, of eve- 
ry nation and age, whose longevity carries him 
through each period. 

The strong desires of the Infant are at first con- 
fined to its corporeal wants. No part of nature is 
known to him, excepting that which serves to satis- 
fy the cravings of appetite, and the nurse who ad- 
ministers it. During this state, agonies of grief and 
ecstacies of joy are instantaneously excited, and as 
instantaneously subside. In advancing Childhood, 
curiosity begins to awake, and increased attention is 
paid to every thing around us. Our pursuits, our 
pleasures, our pains, become daily more numerous 
and complicated. With growing powers, the love 
of action accompanies this inquisitive disposition. 
The healthy and vigorous chiefly delight in those 
amusements which occupy the mind, increase cor- 
poreal strength and address, and imperceptibly en- 
large the stock of ideas. At this period, varied af- 
fections, and a thousand gushes of passion, engage 



164 CAUSES, &c. 

and agitate the breast by turns. Hopes and fears, 
quarrels and reconciliations, eager pursuits and quick 
satiety, occupy every hour. 

Upon advancing towards Manhood, new passions 
and desires are implanted. Social connexions ac- 
quire strength and permanency. Sexual affections 
arise, and the multitudinous passions which surround 
them. Ambition is roused, and means are pursued 
productive of important ends. Interesting objects 
crowd upon the attention, increasing the ardour of 
the mind, and calling forth the most vigorous exer- 
tions. Gay and lively imagination gilds every scene 
with delight, and to enjoy seems to be the whole ob- 
ject of our existence. 

Parental affections, cares, solicitudes, hopes and 
disappointments, joys and griefs, of a more durable 
and serious nature, succeed to the thoughtlessness 
of younger years. The social affections, which seem- 
ed, at an early period, to be instinctive, ripen into a 
lasting and benevolent concern for the good of 
others. These manifest themselves, in some charac- 
ters, by directing the attention to plans and projects of 
public utility ; while in others, inordinate self-love 
and insatiable ambition become the first springs of 
action. 

A placid state of mind and love of ease, naturally 
form the habitual disposition of the aged. Their 
other affections mostly derive their complexion from 
the scenes of their preceding years. Repeated in- 
juries, confidence abused, and various disappoint- 
ments, united with their growing infirmities, are apt 
to inspire a peevish humour, and render suspicion 
and the excess of caution, the prevailing disposition. 
Long habits of frugal industry, joined with repeated 
observations, or with personal experience, of the de- 
pendent and neglected state of the needy, will often 
create an inordinate love of wealth, which, a convic- 
tion that it cannot be long enjoyed, is not able to sub- 
due. A desire of ease and tranquillity, which now 
constitute their principal enjoyment is apt to render 



NATIONAL CUSTOMS. 165 

the Aged vexed and irritated at the smallest inter- 
ruptions. Some aged persons, on the other hand, 
acquire a placid cheerfulness, by the recollection 
both of difficulties surmounted, and of arduous du- 
ties performed, which are never to recur. Con- 
scious of having filled the various connexions and 
relations of life, with propriety and usefulness, they 
have treasured up a fund of complacency and lively 
hope, to console the decline of life. Even the dif- 
ficulties with which they struggled, and the dangers 
thay have escaped, now become the sources of sa- 
tisfaction. 

Thus has every period of life its characteristic in- 
fluence upon our ideas and our affections ; placing 
objects before the mind, and representing the for- 
mer ones in very different shapes and colours, from 
those which first occupied the imagination. 

§ 5. National Customs. 

National customs, however widely they may dif- 
fer from each other, have also a very powerful and 
permanent hold on the affections. For these the in- 
habitants of every countn imbibe a prepossession, 
from the earliest fancy. Early habits seem to be 
propagated with the species ; so intimately are they 
formed and moulded into the growing frame! and 
these early propensities are every day strengthened 
and confirmed by universal example. Custom and 
habits reconcile whole nations to climates the most 
unfriendly, and to occupations the most arduous and 
servile. 

What softer natures start at with affright, 
The hard inhabitant contends is right. 

The history of the manners and customs of different 
nations, fully demonstrates that they are divided in- 
to large masses of predilections and prejudices strong 
attachments and strong aversions ! It evinces the fee- 
ble influence of the rational faculties, either in form- 



166 CAUSES, &c. 

ing or correcting customs, the most beneficial, or the 
most pernicious. Nay, should experience itself be- 
gin to suggest better principles to some superior and 
reflecting minds, ages may roll before any one will 
venture out of the common course, and attempt to 
reduce them to action ; and his best endeavours will 
probably be rewarded with ridicule and contempt. 
Though causes merely incidental may have conspi- 
red to introduce a peculiarity of manners, and to 
form national characters, yet being once formed, 
they become the sovereign rule of thought and ac- 
tion. They are diffused over the most extensive 
communities ; and unless freedom of intercourse be 
held with neighbouring nations, not an individual 
can escape the impression. Thus it is that the in- 
habitants of one district, contemplate those things as 
essential to well-being, which others hold in abhor- 
rence ; — that one class of people reveres as incum- 
bent duties, observances which others contemplate 
as the greatest absurdities ; — that some are invinci- 
ble attachments to rites, which those who are not 
under the influence of the same prepossessions, justly 
consider as a disgrace to humanity. 

Whether custom should influence opinion, or opi- 
nion introduce custom, they both operate upon the 
affections, and generally manifest the plenitude of 
their power, by the number and magnitude of the 
absurdities they render familiar and acceptable to 
the mind. These have for successive generations 
established the empire of imaginary beings ; and the 
affections of reverence, love, and gratitude have 
been thrown away upon ideal objects ! These have 
sanctioned the most inveterate hatreds. They have 
consecrated immoralities, and dignified theft, pros- 
titution, and murder ! They have rendered the aus- 
terities of Bramins and Monks venerable to the mul- 
titude ; have laden the Gentoo Female with insuf- 
ferable disgrace, who refuses to expire in torments, 
from affection to her deceased husband ! These, in 
the most enlightened countries, enjoin it upon the 



THE FORCE OF HABIT. 167 

Man of Honour to murder his best friend for a hasty 
expression, or some other indiscretion of a momen- 
tary transport ! Opinion has clothed a frail mortal 
with Infallibility ; has communicated that exclusive 
attribute of Deity to Councils and Synods, and bow- 
ed the neck of myriads to the empire of their de- 
crees. It has elevated the worthless into the cha- 
racter of saints, and those who have most deserved 
the divine indignation have been invoked as the most 
prevalent intercessors ! It has represented the Uni- 
versal Parent as the tyrant, instead of the benevolent 
friend of mankind ; and it has conducted to the tor- 
ture those who presumed to think more worthily of 
him. 

But the diversities of opinions and manners, with 
their correspondent predilections and aversions, ex- 
ceed enumeration. It is these diversities which fur- 
nish the amusement derived from the perusal of 
travels ; and as no two nations on the globe corres- 
pond in every instance, the peculiarities of each, il- 
lustrate, in a striking manner, the truth of our obser- 
vation. They indicate the inconceivable variety of 
sentiments and affections, which incidentally take 
place among beings of the same species, inhabitants 
of the same sublunary system, conversant with simi- 
lar objects, and possessing similar powers of mind. 

§ 6. The force of Habit. 

Similar to the customs which pervade large bo- 
dies of men, is the force of habit over Individuals. 
The mind frequently acquires a strong and invinci- 
ble attachment to whatever has been familiar to it 
for any length of time. Habits primarily introduced 
by accident or by necessity, will inspire an affection 
for peculiarities, which have the reverse of intrinsic 
merit to recommend them. These become, as it 
were, assimilated to our natures. We contemplate 
them as belonging to ourselves so intimately, that 
we feel an irksome vacuity in their absence, and en- 



168 causes, kc. 

joy a great degree of satisfaction in their being re- 
placed ; merely because we have been habituated 
to them. How frequently does it happen that the 
most trifling circumstances, in early life, will decide 
the lot of our future years ; creating affections and 
aversions, which have the most lasting influence ! 
To this cause we may frequently ascribe, a prefe- 
rence for one trade, pursuit, or profession, rather 
than for another. Thus we perceive that children 
sometimes make choice of the employments of their 
parents or their neighbours, because it had agreea- 
bly engaged the attention of their juvenile hours. 
They love to imitate and play the man, till an affec- 
tion is acquired for the occupation itself. This is 
generally the case where the occupation is of an 
active nature, and most adapted to the vivacity of 
youth. If, on the other hand, their minds are 
strongly impressed with the confinement, slavery, or 
any other disagreeable circumstance attending the 
employment, to which they are daily witnesses, they 
are inclined to the contrary extreme, contract an 
aversion, and give the preference to any other pur- 
suit, the inconveniences of which are unknown to 
them. 

It is needless to enlarge farther upon these parti- 
culars ; as every individual must be conscious of 
their truth. There is no one who does not feel the 
power of habit, both as the source of pleasure and 
of displeasure. It is experienced in e\ery station 
and connexion in life. It is experienced in what 
we eat, or drink, in particular modes of dress, in 
our habitations and their furniture, and in our own 
characteristic peculiarities. 

§ 7. Principle of Self-love, 

The influence of this principle has frequently 
shown itself in the course of our Analysis. Its ten- 
dency to magnify the good or evil which relates to 
©urselves, is perpetually felt. But we shall now 



PRINCIPLE OF SELF-LOVE, 169 

confine our attention to the effects of appropriation ; 
or the attachment generated, and the aifections in- 
dulged, respecting every thing we call our own, 

Mr. Hume has collected together many striking 
instances of the effect of this principle. (See Dis- 
sertation on the Passions.) He attributes it to pride ; 
but then he defines pride to be a certain satisfaction 
in ourselves, on account of some accomplishment or pos- 
session which we enjoy, Without examining the pro- 
priety of this definition in this place, (See Note I.) 
the influence of Self, respecting appropriation, must 
be universally admitted. " It is always," says he, 
* ; our knowledge, our sense, beauty, possessions, fa- 
mily, on which we value ourselves. — We found va- 
nity upon houses, gardens, equipage, and other ex- 
ternal objects ; as well as upon personal merit 
and accomplishments. Men are vain of the beauty 
either of their country, or their county, or even of 
their parish ; of the happy temperature of the cli- 
mate, in which they are born ; of the fertility of their 
native soil ; of the goodness of the wines, fruits, or 
victuals produced by it, &x." ;i Every thing be- 
longing to a vain man, is the best that is any where 
to be found. His houses, equipage, furniture, clothes, 
horses, hounds, excel all others in his conceit. 
&c.' 5 

These, and many other facts, which might be enu- 
merated, indicate an innate propensity to value 
whatever we possess, merely from the incidental 
circumstance of its being our own. That this dis- 
position frequently gives rise to the excess of vanity, 
is not to be disputed : but the disposition itself is so 
important that it cannot be dispensed with. The 
strong attachment to whatever is our own, because 
it is our own, is one of the happiest propensities of 
human nature. It is the recompence of all our de- 
sires, pursuits and exertions. Without this princi- 
ple, every object in life would appear uninteresting 
and insipid ; and the majority of our habitual affec- 
tions would be annihilated. It is this which forms 
15 



110 causes, &e. 

that intimate and pleasing connexion with every 
thing around us ; and enables trifles themselves 
greatly to administer to our comfort and satisfac- 
tion. 

But the diversity which it creates in our indivi- 
dual affections is no less obvious. Every man has 
a distinct atmosphere of good. A circle which is 
his own. Every particle composing it, is viewed 
by another with eyes of indifference ; but by him- 
self with complacency and delight. 

§ 8. The influence of Education. 

By education is understood in this place, any at- 
tempt to enlarge the ideas and improve the mind 
hy the acquisition of general knowledge, or profi- 
ciency in any particular branch. Education intro- 
duces to an intimate acquaintance with numberless 
objects, which are totally unknown to the ignorant 5 
and every object possesses some quality of a plea- 
sant or unpleasant nature, proportionably multiply- 
ing or diversifying our agreeable or disagreeable 
sensations. With the Ignorant, objects are compa- 
ratively few. Scenes before them are of no great 
extent ; and even these are overlooked by the ma- 
jority, whose years pass away in a kind of sensitive 
indolence, without their testifying the marks either 
of apathy or affection. 

Sometimes, however, a natural acuteness of un- 
derstanding is observable among the most illiterate, 
accompanied with lively sensations and \ery strong 
affections ; and when they are once roused, by ob- 
jects which appear interesting, their passions are 
most violent. What they know can alone appear 
important to them, and the very little they possess 
is their all. Their whole souls are concentrated in 
that which gives pleasure, and all the powers of 
body and mind are exerted to repel whatever gives 
pain. This will indicate the cause of that remark- 
able strength of passions and affections, both of the 



INFLUENCE OP EDUCATION. 171 

benevolent and malevolent kind, so observable in 
savage nations ; and the impetuosity of character so 
often manifested by the active and uninformed in 
every nation. 

The cultivated mind, by increasing its acquaint- 
ance with innumerable subjects, will inevitably dis- 
cover some pleasing quality in every object of its 
pursuit ; of consequence, both attention and affec- 
tions are divided and subdivided into innumerable 
ramifications ; and thus, although enjoyment may 
upon the whole be augmented, by aggregate num- 
bers, jet each individual quality possesses but a 
moderate share of influence. 

The Young and Inexperienced are generally af- 
fected by simple objects. The causes of their joy 
or anger, sorrow or fear, are seldom complex. 
When the powers of the mind become more enlarg- 
ed, the affections are more diversified and rendered 
more complicated ! Thus upon the perception of 
favours and obligations, the joy from good becomes 
united with gratitude to the author of that good ; 
with /ore, veneration, respect, for his character ; 
with admiration at the extent of the good, or at 
some peculiarity in the delicacy and liberality with 
which it was conferred. Experience introduces 
the passions of hope and fear, by teaching us the 
knowledge of Good worth possessing, on the one 
hand, and the accidents to which it is liable on the 
other. 

It is observable further, that the Young and In- 
experienced, whose habits are not yet formed, and 
to whom every thing is- new, are most apt to be in- 
fluenced by the introductory emotions of surprise 
and wonder. Their inexperience renders things 
and events, which are familiar to others, new and 
strange to them. They are prone to be in ecstacies 
from acquisitions and advantages, comparatively 
trifling ; and to be agitated by small or imaginary 
evils, because their imaginations have not been cor- 



172 CAUSES, &c. 

rected by experience. But, if these passions from 
more simple causes, are frequently stronger in them 
than in others, it is equally true that their affections 
are less permanent. A rapid succession of novel- 
ties, and the immense variety which increased 
knowledge introduces, quickly efface the preced- 
ing impression. 

But this subject is inexhaustible. A whole En- 
cyclopedia could not do it justice* The infinite 
diversity of pursuits, which, in the present day en- 
gage the attention of an awakened world, exceeds 
enumeration. Each pursuit is accompanied with 
its peculiar predilection, and presents an infinite 
variety of qualities to the inquisitive mind, which 
excite their correspondent emotions and affec- 
tions. 

Other causes which influence our ideas of quali- 
ties have a very powerful, though very transient 
effect. They are merely the ephemera of the 
mind ; nor have they that immediate relation to 
the supposed merit or demerit of the object, which 
exerts its influence in all the preceding cases. 
These are the influence of Novelty and of Fashion. 

§ 9. Influence of Novelty. 

As by the power of habit we are reconciled to 
circumstances, and even enjoy complacency in 
situations, merely because we are accustomed to 
them ; thus will the Novelty of an object frequent- 
ly render it interesting for the moment, and give it 
a temporary pre-eminence to many things which 
Ave know to possess intrinsic merit. Novelty is in 
itself the most transient of all qualities ; it begins 
to decay from the first moment of its existence; 
being solely adapted to that instinctive curiosity, 
which may be considered as an appetite for know- 
ledge. Novel objects will, at first, excite a degree 
of wonder and admiration, from their being sup- 



POWER OF FASHION. 173 

posed to possess something strange, rare, or pecu- 
liar : but as these are relative qualities alone, and 
as this relation refers solely to our ignorance and 
inexperience, their effects are evanescent ; for when 
the subject is no longer novel to us, it does not 
seem any longer to possess them. When novelty 
is no more, we shall either reject them with indif- 
ference or displeasure, or they may continue to at- 
tract our attention, by our perception of other and 
more permanent qualities. 

The love of novelty may, in some minds, be 
considered as a disease; as a false appetite which 
craves more than it can digest, and seeks a variety 
of viands, from whence it derives but very little 
nourishment. This passion, though it render us 
perpetually inquisitive, perpetually impels us to see 
objects through a false medium. At first, they are 
rendered peculiarly attractive, through the adven- 
titious colouring which the imagination has given 
them. They appear insipid when their novelty is 
gone, or become depreciated beyond their deserts, 
from the disappointment of our expectations con- 
cerning them. Fondness for novelty, when carried 
to an excess, renders a person whimsical in his 
choice, and unsteady in his pursuits. Momentary 
pleasures terminate in satiety and disappointment ; 
which are insuperable impediments to that deli- 
berate investigation and habitual experience, which 
alone can enable us to judge of the real nature and 
intrinsic qualities, of the objects around us. 

But no cause whatever is so whimsically ver- 
satile and tyrannical, in exciting attachments and 
aversions, as the 

§ 10. Pozuer of Fashion. 

This power is an ideal influenza, spreading 
with the utmost rapidity, and infecting a whole 
community where it commenced ; sometimes ex- 
tending to distant nations, and acquiring such 
15* 



174 CAUSES, &c. 

strength, in its progress, that nothing can resist 
its force ! It does not possess the degree of 
merit attendant upon the excessive love of novelty, 
whieli always imagines the object to possess some 
degree of worth ; a circumstance this, by no means 
essential to the influence of fashion ; whose au- 
thority is, in general, derived from things known 
to be idle and insignificant. Fashion gives abso- 
lute sway to modes, forms, colours, &c. wantonly 
introduced by the whim of an Individual, with 
whom the majority have not the most distant con- 
nexion, and concerning whom they are totally 
ignorant ; unless circumstances and situations of 
notoriety should render their characters either 
equivocal or unequivocal. It is capable of instan- 
taneously altering our opinion of the nature and 
qualities of things, without demanding any painful 
exertions of the understanding, or requiring the 
slow process of investigation. With the quickness 
of a magic wand, it in a moment subverts all 
those ideas of beauty, elegance, and propriety, 
we had before cherished. It makes us reject, as 
odious, what we had lately contemplated as most 
desirable ; and raptures are inspired by qualities, 
we K had just considered as pernicious and deform- 
ed. Unwilling to renounce our title to rationality, 
unable to resist the power of fashion, we make 
every attempt to reconcile reason with absurdity. 
Thus, in numberless instances, do we attempt to 
vindicate to ourselves and to others, the novel 
affection. We are assiduous to find out some pe- 
culiar excellence or advantage, in whatever be- 
comes the idol of the day ; and to discover some 
insufferable defect in the divinity we have dis- 
carded. That which was once deemed grand 
and majestic, in size or form, will now strike 
the eye as insupportably clumsy ; and the regu- 
larity we once admired, now renders an object 
stiff, precise, and formal. Colours, which were 
yesterday so delicately elegant, will appear to-day 
faint, faded, and lifeless, and those which were 



LOVE 01* SINGULARITY. 17,3 

lately much too strong and glaring for our weak 
optics, become in an instant, bright, glowing and 
majestic. Fashions will render that particular garb 
which we once thought so warm and comfortable, 
hot and insupportable as the sultry dog-days ; and 
it makes the slightest covering, contrary to its 
pristine nature, remarkably pleasant in the depth 
of winter. The flowing hair, or adjusted ringlets, 
shall at one period be considered as becoming and 
elegant; at another, be rejected as an insufferable 
mark of effeminacy, and reprobated as demanding 
a culpable waste of our most precious time ; while 
their close amputation is deemed both manly and 
commodious. Fashion has power to influence our 
ideas of graceful proportions ; it elongates or con- 
tracts the form of the leg in one sex, and of the 
waist in the other. It directs decency to excite a 
blush, at being detected without any other head- 
dress than that ordained by nature ; and it is also 
able to suppress the blush of female delicacy, at 
exposures which scarcely leave any room for the 
exercise of the most licentious imagination. 

Thus does fashion powerfully, expeditiously, and 
absurdly change both our Opinions and our Affec- 
tions, according to the dictates of the most wanton 
caprice ! 

§11. Love of Singularity. 

This is the direct opposite of the former ; and 
though the love of singularity cannot, in its own 
nature, be so extensive as the power of fashion, 
yet it is very operative, where it does exist. It 
constitutes the motive and the pleasure of those, 
who are bold enough to deviate from the accustom- 
ed modes of thinking and acting, in order to attract 
the public attention. As the servile imitators of 
fashion are ashamed of being singular, these on the 
other hand, glory in singularity. They disdain to 
be placed in the line with common men, and think 



176 CAUSES, &c. 

that they shall be respected as commanding officers. 
by starting out of the ranks. This disposition al- 
ways indicates itself in those who are the first in- 
troducers of fashions, which the multitude so eager- 
ly follow. But it has its influence in more impor- 
tant cases. It has eventually a powerful sway over 
the public at large ; who seem ready to enlist them- 
selves under some chief, without being choice about 
either the nature of the service, or of the recom- 
pense. Speculative philosophy, politics, and reli- 
gion, are the three provinces in which the influ- 
ence of this disposition is remarkably conspicuous. 
It is often the source of new theories, which some- 
times instruct, sometimes astonish, and sometimes 
infatuate the world. It is always discontented with 
whatever is, and is always stimulated to seek some- 
thing different. In politics, it is inimical to monar- 
chy, aristocracy, or democracy, according as either 
of them is the established form of government. In 
religion, it deviates from the popular creed, what- 
ever that may be. The creed being popular, is 
deemed a sufficient indication of its being errone- 
ous. This disposition has a much closer affinity 
with very superficial thinking, than with free inquiry; 
for it generally proposes crude opinions as the only 
counterpoise to public opinions, without paying any 
respect to the weight of evidence, on either side. 
The love of Singularity has too often a pernicious 
effect in disputing societies, and sometimes in semi- 
naries of learning ; and it is highly prejudicial to 
that investigation of truth, which is the professed 
object of these institutions. The disputant opposes 
sentiments generally received, from the love of dis- 
putation, or from the desire of exercising and dis- 
playing his talents. He directs all his attention to 
the arguments which appear to be the most novel, 
specious, and embarrassing. Thus he not only ex- 
cites doubts in the minds of others, and triumphs in 
his success, but being habituated to search argu- 
ments of opposition, without attending impartially 



POPULAR PREJUDICES. 177 

to the force of evidence, he is finally caught in the 
web of his own sophistry. He finally imagines that 
truth is on the side which he at first supported from 
vanity ; and he rejects as errors, sentiments he se- 
cretly revered, when he wantonly began to combat 
them. Thus does he experience a total revolution 
in his manner of thinking and acting. He considers 
those things as indifferent, absurd, and pernicious, 
which he has once thought of the highest impor- 
tance ; and this state of mind is necessarily produc- 
tive of a change in his affections and dispositions to- 
wards them. 

§ 12. Popular Prejudices. 

As whole communities sometimes entertain an 
uniformity in sentiment, with their correspondent 
predilections and aversions ; thus are they not un- 
frequently divided and subdivided into sects and 
parties, each of which is rigidly tenacious of a par- 
ticular class of ideas, contracts very strong attach- 
ments to the espousers of the same cause, and thinks 
itself fully authorized to treat those of opposite sen- 
timents, with contempt and hatred. Philosophy, 
religion, and politics manifest also, in a thousand in- 
stances, the influence of this principle. The two 
former are distinguished into a diversity of schools 
and sects, which cherish the flattering idea that they 
are the sole supporters of truth. Thus it is that a 
zealous attachment to particular sentiments, is sel- 
dom the result of an impartial examination. It is 
often the consequence of an early education, and 
often it proceeds from an implicit confidence in the 
virtues, talents, and superior Judgment of their chief, 
or some other incidental circumstance, which has 
cast the mind in the mould of particular opinions, 
and made an impression upon it too deep ever to be 
obliterated. 

Nor does this principle cease to operate, in coun- 
tries which deem themselves the most remote from 



178 CAUSES, &C 

servile attachments, or unfounded prejudices. The 
rancorous spirit which too frequently prevails in 
every contested election, will avouch the truth of 
our assertion. Candidates for some particular of- 
fice, professedly of high importance to the interests 
of the community, at once start forth from obscu- 
rity. They are immediately idolized by one party, 
as the mirrors of every excellence, and stigmatized 
by the other, as totally devoid of merit, and un- 
worthy the name of man. Social intercourse is in- 
terrupted; — intimate friends become implacable 
enemies ; — and during this wretched ferment, a to- 
tal suspension takes place of all the principles of 
honour and integrity ; while every sluice of scan- 
dal and defamation is thrown open, without reserve 
and without remorse. Partiality and prejudice act 
and re-act like the waves of the troubled sea, until 
they are worked up into a tremendous storm. At 
these periods such phrensies have been known to 
disturb the brain, that the wanton shouts of a mob 
have been productive of outrage and murder, and 
the colour of a ribband has excited convulsions, as 
violent as those produced by the sight of water in 
the canine madness ! 

To this principle also may we not ascribe a phe- 
nomenon, which appears otherwise inexplicable. 
Persons who in their individual characters are high- 
ly respectable, both for sound sense and integrity, 
will frequently in their political capacities, pursue a 
conduct the most inconsistent with either; — uni- 
formly act on the extravagant idea, that the existent 
Minister, whoever he may be, is uniformly right in 
his principles, perfectly disinterested in all his ac- 
tions, and infallible in his plans : or, on the contra- 
ry, will regularly and incessantly oppose him, as a 
compound of depravity and ignorance ; whose every 
plan is big with mischief, and every exertion of 
power the application of the strength of a Samson, 
to overthrow the pillars of the constitution ! 



.-oSOCIATED AFFECTIONS. 179 



§13. Associated Affections. 

The influence of Association, in suggesting of 
thoughts, has frequently engaged the attention of 
philosophers ; and the power of trivial incidents to 
recall former ideas, is universally confessed. - But 
their power is perhaps equally extensive over the 
affections. 

As one passion or affection pre-disposes the mind 
to the indulgence of that which most nearly resem- 
bles it, thus all the affections which have been in- 
dulged to a considerable degree, seem to change the 
complexion of every surrounding object. Places 
in which we have been happy, strike us, as if they 
had been both witnesses and participants of our 
bliss ; while distress invariably diifuses a gloom over 
locality itself, and over every circumstance that re- 
minds us of what we have felt. Nor can we call to 
our recollection any place, in which we have enjoy- 
ed peculiar satisfaction, without feeling an affection 
for that spot ; or recollect scenes of unhappiness, 
without feeling something like resentment against 
the theatre of our sufferings. The traveller, who 
has been happy in a foreign country, contracts a 
partiality for every thing belonging to it : if he has 
been ill received and ill treated, the gayest scenes 
and most advantageous circumstances belonging to 
that country, will, upon recollection, inspire him 
with displacencv, if not with horror. 

This principle is very extensive in its influence. 
It is this which renders the spot where the lover 
enjoys the company of his mistress, a paradise in 
his sight, however different its aspect may be to 
another. The slightest present, as a token of Af- 
fection, inspires exquisite delight : a trinket, or a 
lock of hair, are, to him, of more worth than a 
kingdom. It is this principle which enstamps an in- 
estimable value upon the relics of Saints and Mar- 
tyrs ; and empowers fragments of their garments. 



1B0 CAUSES, &c. 

their very teeth and nails, to work miracles, in the 
opinion of the devotee. In its more moderate ex- 
ertions, it inspires a strong attachment to every 
thing which was once our friend's. It is this prin- 
ciple of association, which so easily implants in the 
religious and devout mind, a veneration for the 
place destined to the offices of religion; and inscribes 
Holiness upon the edifice devoted to sacred purposes. 

The same principle renders innumerable circum- 
stances, in common life, of considerable importance ; 
and in conjunction with habit, enables us to derive 
comfort from peculiarities of state and situation, 
which do not possess any intrinsic advantage. Every 
thing around us becomes, as it were, congenial to 
our natures ; and the pleasures of yesterday are 
revived in the objects of to-day. 

This associating principle extends its influence to 
the article of dress, and inspires a degree of respec- 
tability, or the contrary, according to the shape of 
a coat, or the cock of a hat. In the days of our 
ancestors it was reduced to a regular system, and 
occasioned that classification in dress, which distin- 
guished individuals in the three professions, and in 
our courts of justice, from the vulgar herd. In 
those days the venerable wig, the robe, and the band, 
invariably excited the- ideas of superior skill, gra- 
vity, piety, and equity. These were venerated as 
emblems, until they were so frequently employed as 
substitutes, that the charm was finally dispelled. 

But although this kind of association has not, in 
the present day, so extensive an effect as at former 
periods, yet it is not entirely destroyed. It is felt 
in our navies and armies, where the raw recruit is 
despised, and often very roughly treated by his 
more veteran associates, until they have lost sight 
of his ignorance and inexperience, in the uniformi- 
ty of garb. It is felt by every actor, who cannot 
fully enter into the spirit of his part, until he has 
assumed the character, in his external appearance. 
It is invariably felt by those distinguished for their 



ASSOCIATED AFFECTIONS. 18.1 

attachment to ornaments; who so frequently mis- 
take the elegance of their dress, and the value of 
their jewels, for their own personal accomplish- 
ments. It is, at times, felt by every one in a greater 
or less degree ; for his mind experiences some- 
thing of a conformity with the state of his dress ; 
and the remark of Sterne, that a propensity to 
meanness is increased by the want of clean linen, 
possesses a portion of philosophy as well as of hu- 
mour. 

This principle of association exerts an illicit in- 
fluence in more important matters. It inspires a 
disposition to substitute one thing for another, be- 
cause of some points of similarity ; however they 
may differ in more essential articles. Thus it fre- 
quently substitutes the means for the end. In reli- 
gion, it confounds the observance of rites and cere- 
monies with the spirit of true devotion ; and a 
punctual attendance upon the means of improvement 
is deemed equivalent to progress in improvement. 
In morals, it sometimes respects a vice that is conti- 
guous to a virtue ; and it degrades a virtue, that is 
contiguous to a vice. Thus because a generous man 
is liberal in his donations, the Prodigal, who squan- 
ders in thoughtless profusion his own property and 
that of others, boasts of his liberality. Because 
economy is a virtue, avarice assumes the title. The 
rash and impetuous give the character of cowardice 
to caution ; and the coward confounds genuine cou- 
rage with unpardonable rashness. 

In like manner are degrees of atrocity calculated, 
not by the innate baseness of an act, or by the quan- 
tity of misery it diffuses, but according to the nature 
of the punishment inflicted by human laws ; or to 
the quantity of reputation that is in danger by the 
commission. Thus some have imagined that they 
respect virtue, because they abhor ignominy. They 
cautiously select, and adhere to the vices which are 
least injurious to reputation ; and they will pay pe- 
culiar attention to mere appellations, and modes of 
16 



182 CAUSES, &c. 

expression, which are designedly adopted to conceal 
the enormities of guilt. The man, who, in his social 
habits, apparently scorns to be unjust, will not scru- 
ple to ruin his best friends by rash and adventurous 
projects ; and he simply calls the issue, an unfortu- 
nate speculation. The ruin of female honour, to the 
destruction of the peace and happiness of respecta- 
ble relatives, being termed an act of gallantry, is 
scarcely deemed inconsistent with the character of 
a man of honour. 

These few specimens show the nature and extent 
of the associating principle. They indicate that it 
sometimes operates as a remembrancer, sometimes as 
an emblem or representative, and sometimes as a 
substitute ; — that it may be the handmaid of innocent 
and virtuous affections ; the source of bigotry and 
superstition, and an apology for the deepest depra- 
vity. 

When our ideas of the qualities of objects, and 
our dispositions towards them, are not under the in- 
fluence of these adventitious circumstances, when 
they are the most correspondent with their real na- 
tures, yet the impressions, they make upon our feel- 
ings are extremely different, at different seasons. 
Sometimes we perceive that they exist, but we con- 
template them without either emotion or affection : 
at other times they acquire such an irresistible influ- 
ence, that they will not suffer a competitor. We 
have already observed that the Novelty of an object, 
and the sudden manner in which it is presented to 
our notice, have a very powerful influence over our 
affections ; but there are many other adventitious 
circumstances, which from their striking effects up- 
on the mind, deserve to be enumerated. For ex 
ample : 



THE MANNER, &C. 183 



^14. The Manner in which Information is con- 
veyed to us. 

It is natural to expect that a full conviction of the 
truth of interesting particulars, would, at all times, 
be attended with an impression proportionate to their 
importance. But this is not the case : much de- 
pends upon the manner in which such interesting 
subjects are presented to the mind. The informa- 
tion obtained by reading a plain and simple state- 
ment of events, for example, is the weakest in its in- 
fluence. A narrative of the same events, from an 
eye-ivitness, whose credit may not be superior to that 
of the historian, brings us, as it were, nearer to the 
object, and makes a much deeper impression. Both 
of these are feeble compared with the influence of 
sight. It is through the organs of sight alone, that 
the most vivid and most permanent effects are pro- 
duced. Every minute circumstance is now placed 
before us, and each exerts its own impressive influ- 
ence at the same instant. The information thus be- 
comes complete and indubitable, without any mixture 
of obscurity in the mode of representation, or remains 
of incredulity on our parts ; — which, perhaps, weak- 
ens the evidence of what is considered to be au- 
thentic history, more than is generally suspected. 
We are our own evidence, and we must give credit 
to ourselves. Hence we speak of ocular demonstra- 
tion, and agree that seeing is believing. 

It is a singular fact, that in reading the most ter- 
rible events with which the pages of history are fill- 
ed, we not only bear to read, but take delight in the 
perusal of those incidents which would be too affect- 
ing, were they immediately described to us by an 
eye-witness ; and which would excite insufferable 
anguish were we ourselves spectators of the scenes. 
The cool narration of those vices, follies, intrigues, 
cruelties, oppressions, of which the history of states 
and kingdoms is chiefly composed, is just sufficient 



184 causes, (Sic. 

to awaken within us a degree of horror, indignation, 
and sympathy, which is not inconsistent with the 
pleasure we take in the gratification of curiosity. 
We feel also self-approbation, which is far from be- 
ing unpleasant, in the perception that we are always 
interested in the cause of the innocent, the weak, 
and the oppressed ; that we can detest vice, and 
rejoice in the triumphs of virtue. 

Nor does the professed Historian descend to 
those minutiae, which, in scenes of this kind, have 
the strongest hold upon the mind. His narrative 
consists in a general representation of facts. He 
tells us of thousands and tens of thousands who 
were destroyed, or led into captivity, or reduced to 
extreme distress by pestilence and famine, without 
expatiating upon minuter circumstances, which are 
absolutely necessary to compose an interesting pic- 
ture. Thus are we much more affected with the 
parting of Hector from Andromache, than with the 
conflagration of Troy ; and we sympathise more 
deeply with the fate of this hero, when his lifeless 
body was dragged at the chariot-wheels of his proud 
conqueror, although it was insensible to pain, than 
with all the real distresses of the Trojan war^ 
We suffer more from the simple story of La Fevre, 
than from the reports of an hospital ; and the coun- 
tryman's pathetic lamentations over his dead ass, 
have called forth tears of commiseration, which much 
more extensive distress will not always produce. 

We shall now advert to other causes, which have 
also a powerful influence in exciting or directing 
our affections ; and have some relation both with 
the sympathy of our natures, and with the associa- 
tion of ideas and affections already noticed ; these 
are 

§ 15. Imitative Tones and Representations. 

We are so constituted as to be strongly affected 
by the representation of particular states and situa- 
tions, notwithstanding we may be convinced that 



IMITATIVE TONES, &C. 1 83 

they are imaginary or artificial. Mere tones, at- 
titudes, gestures, imitating or resembling any of 
those produced by one or other of the passions and 
affections, are calculated to excite correspondent 
feelings and emotions, in susceptible minds. Like 
musical instruments attuned to the same key. our 
feelings are made to vibrate with the vibrations of 
surrounding objects. Even the Voice and Accents 
of inferior animals, expressive either of fear, or 
pain, or lamentation, or joy, or affection, have a 
tendency to render us apprehensive, cheerful, me- 
lancholy, or sympathizing. Rude and harsh sounds 
not only create unpleasant sensations, but suggest 
unpleasant and foreboding ideas, in all those who 
have not corrected their sensations by their reason. 
It is from this kind of association probably, that the 
croaking of the raven, and the scream of a night owl. 
are so universally deemed ominous of mischief, by 
the ignorant. The sprightly music of the feathered 
songsters inspires an exhilarating vivacity. The 
solitary and melodious notes of the nightingale, the 
cooing of the turtle dove, &c. have always furnish- 
ed imagery for Poets, in their descriptions of the 
tender passion of love, or sympathetic sorrow. The 
bleating of the sheep, and lowing of the kine, &c. 
although they possess no real melody in themselves, 
yet as they denote the affection of the dam for its 
offspring, they universally inspire a pleasing sympa- 
thetic tenderness. 

The principal charms of the Music, which aims 
at a higher character than that of difficult or rapid 
execution, consist in the imitation of those tones and 
movements which are most intimately connected 
with the passions and affections of the soul ; which 
exhilarate the spirits, and excite to the sprightly or 
graceful dance ; arouse and animate to martial deeds ; 
induce a bewitching melancholy ; or diffuse a pleas- 
ing serenity over the mind ; — which charm by dis- 
playing something like the power of persuasive 
eloquence without words, — by holding a kind of 

16* 



186 CAUSES, &c« 



conversation without ideas, — and by exciting what* 
ever disposition the artist pleases, without suggesting 
a motive. 

It has been occasionally remarked, in our Analy- 
sis, that the powerful influence of any exciting cause, 
manifests itself by Emotions correspondent to the 
nature of the passions ; to seize these external ap- 
pearances, or to imitate the expressive looks, atti- 
tudes, and gestures peculiar to each, is the professed 
object of the statuary and historic painter ; and to 
do justice to these characteristic emotions, consti- 
tutes the difficulty and excellence of their art. It is 
the professed design of the Artist to excite some 
emotion, or call forth some particular affection, cor- 
respondent to the nature of his object. Although 
the power of the sculptor is confined to forms and 
attitudes principally, yet how interesting may these 
be rendered to the spectator ! Who can contemplate 
the Apollo Belvedere, the Venus de Medicis, without 
admiring the human shape in its characteristic beau- 
ties ? or the dancing Fazuns, without partaking of 
their vivacity ? Or the Farnese Hercules, without a 
degree of awe ? or the Laocoon and his sons, with- 
out a mixture of compassion and horror ? Or any 
of these, without being astonished at the skill, inge- 
nuity, or sublimity of the artist ? The enthusiastic 
encomiums bes f owed upon the paintings of celebrat- 
ed masters ; the eagerness with which their labours 
are purchased ; the wealth and renown which the 
most distinguished of them enjoy ; and the respect 
paid to their memories, demonstrate the amazing 
effect of their performances upon the mind ;- — the 
strength of our sympathy with every representation 
of passion ;■ — and the surprise we experience, that 
these powerful effects are produced by the mere 
distribution of colours, or of lights and shades upon 
board or canvas ! 



RHETORIC, ORATORY, &C. 18" 



§ 16. Rhetoric, Oratory, Eloquence* 

If mere tones and representations so warmly in- 
terest the affections, though they are not able to 
convey information, or suggest any ideas to the 
mind, perfectly novel ; much deeper impressions 
are to be expected from means, whose professed 
object it is, to increase our knowledge of particular 
subjects, to extend our views, enlarge our concep- 
tions, to employ all the force of language, and all 
the power of sympathy, in order to give them weight 
and energy ; which is the province of Rhetoric and 
Oratory, 

Rhetoric is generally considered as the art of per- 
suasion. It attempts to inspire conviction concern- 
ing some particular object, that it may influence 
the will to determine in a manner correspondent. 
It seeks either to arouse the mind to action, or to 
dissuade it from acting upon the resolutions already 
taken, or which are in contemplation. Its immedi- 
ate employment is not to search after truth, but to 
render acknowledged or supposed truths influential. 
It leaves to Logic the province of cool investiga- 
tion, and of drawing legitimate conclusions from 
admitted premises, without any regard to motives. 
The Rhetorician is solicitous to effect some parti- 
cular purpose, and calls in the aid of reason merely 
as an auxiliary. He attempts to influence the Will 
by reasoning with the affections; knowing that if 
they be gained over to the party espoused, the will 
13 ready to follow. He therefore artfully conceals, 
or slightly passes over every circumstance which is 
not favourable to his views, and he brings forward, 
and largely expatiates upon those which are. He 
suggests motives of pleasure, utility, safety, honour, 
pity, &c. as the subject admits. He not only pre- 
supposes the object in view to be of the first impor- 
tance, but he employs every method to implant this 
conviction in the mind of those whom he endea- 
vours to persuade. 



188 CAUSES, &c. 

These attempts become most successful, by a 
close imitation of that train of ideas, and those 
modes of expression, which any particular passion 
or affection is prone to suggest. If the design be 
to excite anger and resentment, rhetoric imitates 
the language of anger. It places the supposed of- 
fence in the strongest point of view, and describes 
it in the most vivid colours. It assiduously collects 
and expatiates upon every circumstance, which 
contributes to the aggravation of the crime. It is 
indignant against that spiritless tranquillity which 
can patiently endure such insults, and attributes 
reluctance to revenge, to some mean and cowardly 
motive. If its object be to excite terror, it assem- 
bles together every circumstance which has a ten- 
dency to alarm with a sense of Danger. It stig- 
matizes courage with the epithet of rashness, and 
flight is dignified with the title of prudence, &c. 
If compassion be the object, it expatiates upon the 
wretched state of the sufferer ; his fears, his appre- 
hensions, his penitence. It palliates his faults, extols 
his good qualities ; and thus collects in one point of 
view all his claims to commiseration. 

The species of argument, which persons under 
the influence of passions and strong affections per- 
petually adopt, is rendered more efficacious by ap- 
propriate language. The rhetorician therefore 
studies and imitates the particular language of each 
passion, either in its energy, vivacity, or diffuse- 
ness. Hence he liberally employs all those tropes 
and figures of speech, which nature suggests, and 
art has classified. 

Oratory adds to the rhetorical compositions the 
advantages of elocution. It adapts the manner of 
delivery to the nature of the subject, and the appro- 
priate language. It takes the characteristic signs 
of each emotion for its model, as far as it dares to 
imitate without the imputation of mimickry. It 
enters into the attitudes, gestures, tones of voice, 
accents, emphasis, expressions of countenance, in- 



RHETORIC, ORATORY, &C. 189 

spired by the particular emotion, in such a manner, 
that not an idea is suffered to lose its proper effect, 
by any deficiency, in kind or degree of energy com- 
municated to it ; and thus it enjoys every advan- 
tage to be derived from the power of sympathy. 

Eloquence, according to the modern ideas of it, 
appears to be the medium between the impetuosity 
which oratory admits, and which was highly cha- 
racteristic of ancient oratory, and the studied arti- 
fice of the professed rhetorician. The term is 
sometimes applied to composition, sometimes to de- 
livery. When applied to both, it comprehends a 
certain degree of elegance, both of diction and of 
manner. The want of that energy which approaches 
to violence, is compensated by pertinency of lan- 
guage, fluency of utterance, and guarded chastity of 
address. Its excellency consists in a pleasing adap- 
tation of language to the subject, and of manner to 
both. It refuses too close an imitation of the turbid 
emotions, but it delights in animated description. 
It seems rather partial to the pathetic ; the elegance 
and graces which it loves, harmonizing most easily 
and successfully, with the softest and finest feelings 
of our nature. 

The power of oratorial Eloquence is almost irre- 
sistible. It penetrates into the inmost recesses of 
the soul. It is able to excite or to calm, the pas- 
sions of men at will; to drive the multitude for- 
wards to acts of madness, or to say to the contend- 
ing passions, " Peace, be still." It changes the 
whole current of our ideas, concerning the nature 
and importance of objects, and of our obligations 
and advantages respecting them. It rouses from 
pernicious indolence; and it renders the sentiments 
and dispositions already formed, most influential. 
In a word, it has made of the human species both 
angels and monsters. It has animated to the most 
noble and generous exertions, and it has impelled 
to deeds of horror ! 



ISO CAUSES, &c< 



§ 1 7. The Drama, 

The successful dramatic Writer catches the ideas, 
and imitates the language of every passion, emotion, 
and affection, in their different stages and degrees. 
His professed object is to suppose a diversity of 
characters, and to support them with a correspon- 
dent train of ideas ; to inspire them with predilec- 
tions and aversions ; or call forth particular passions 
and affections, according to the situations in which 
he has placed them. His hopes of success depend 
on the closeness of the imitation ; and success itself 
consists in being able to interest the heart, by ex- 
citing affections and emotions similar to those which 
would be felt by the reader or spectator, were he 
an immediate witness to similar scenes, in real 
Me. 

The complete Actor possesses the happy talent of 
expressing, by manner, the state of mind represent- 
ed by his author. He adopts what modern orators 
reject. He attempts to give force to pertinent ideas 
and language, by imitative tones, gestures, and 
countenance. These he varies, according to the 
versatile state of those who are tossed upon the bil- 
lows of passion, agitated by some contending emo- 
tions, or under the more permanent influence of 
particular affections. 

In theatrical exhibitions there is a conspiracy to 
delude the imagination ; and all the powers of sym- 
pathy are called forth to produce the effect. By 
appropriate dresses, the persons of the actors are 
lost in the characters they assume ; and correspon- 
dent scenery points out the very spot of action. 
The spectator leaves every idea of real life at the 
door of entrance, and voluntarily yields himself up 
to the pleasing delusion. He finds himself in a new 
world. He is transported, in an instant, into distant 
regions and remote ages, and feels in fiction all the 
force of truth. He laughs at mimic folly, sin- 



PREDISPOSING CAUSES. 191 

cerely weeps at artificial misery, is inspired with 
horror and indignation at imaginary baseness, and i^ 
in an ecstasy of joy at counterfeit happiness ! 

§ 18. Pre-disposmg Causes, 

All the above causes, which operate so power- 
fully upon the mind, and impress it with such a 
diversify or contrariety of sensations, have still a 
degree of uniformity in their mode of action. We 
may still suppose that the same individual, placed 
under their immediate influence, would always en- 
tertain similarideas, and receive similar impressions. 
But this is not always the case. Certain circum- 
stances create such a pre- disposition within us, that 
we shall, at different seasons, be very differently 
affected by the same object, both respecting the 
kind of passion or affection excited, and the degree 
of power it may exercise over us : and they consti- 
tute that state of mind, which we frequently describe 
by being in the humour, or not in the humour. The 
circumstances to which we now refer, exert their 
primary effect upon the corporeal or nervous sys- 
tem, render that more susceptible of impressions, at 
one time than another ; dispose it to be very dif- 
ferently affected by the same objects ; and through 
its channel, to affect the state of our minds concern- 
ing them. 

These observations relate to the power of what 
the medical world has termed the non-naturals, 
which exert as great an influence over the disposi- 
tions of the mind, as they are productive of salutary 
or morbid pre-dispositions respecting the body. All 
those circumstances, for example, which are calcu- 
lated to invigorate the frame, and rouse it from a 
state of indolence and inactivity, necessarily com- 
municate a correspondent vigour to the Mind, by 
which it becomes more adapted to receive impres- 
sions of a certain class, and to be more powerfully 
influenced by particular circumstances and qualities 



192 CAUSES, &c. 

in objects, than at the preceding period. Such are 
the manifest effects of refreshing sleep to fatigued 
and exhausted natures, — of invigorating viands — of 
cheerful weather, &c. Whatever produces an un- 
easy sensation in the corporeal system, is apt to 
render the Mind peevish and fretful, and dispose it 
to be more powerfully affected than usual, by inci- 
dents of a disagreeable nature ; such as losses, dis- 
appointments, the improper conduct of others, &c. 
It has been frequently noticed by practitioners, 
that patients are much more fretful and impatient 
in a state of convalescence, than they were during 
the severer periods of their disease. Their return- 
ing powers of sensation, make them feel the state 
of the disordered frame, more minutely than during 
the oppressive state of the disease ; and their com- 
fortless sensation communicates an unusual fretful- 
ness to the temper. Again, those things which heat 
and irritate to a considerable degree, foster all tur- 
bulent and irritable passions ; while those which 
diffuse a pleasing sensation over the system, dispose 
to benevolence and good-will. It is a maxim with 
some, in modern days, never to ask a favour of an 
epicure, till after his meals ; and the Ancients were 
not unacquainted with the mollia tempora fandi. 
Whatever chills and debilitates, disposes to timidity ; 
and local situations which are retired and gloomy, 
are most conducive to melancholy impressions. In- 
deed, so dependent is the state of the Mind upon 
that of the body, that nothing can produce a con- 
siderable change in the latter, without exciting pre- 
dispositions, somewhat analogous, in the former. 
The food which recruits the exhausted powers of 
animal nature, exhilarates and invigorates the Mind : 
the excess which burdens the body, benumbs the pow- 
ers of the soul. The painful and comfortless sensa- 
tions produced by flatulencies and indigestions, in 
hypochondriac temperaments, have sometimes pro- 
duced, and sometimes been mistaken for an anxious 
state of Mind ; and the medicines which relieve the 



PRE-DISPOSTNG CAUSES. 193 

one will administer comfort to the other. The 
sensations of hunger, cold, fatigue, &c. being disa- 
greeable in themselves, induce a painful restlessness 
in the disposition, and great petulance of temper. 
The state of the atmosphere, peculiarities of cli- 
mate, seasons of the year, have their mental influ- 
ence. They dispose to a cheerful vivacity or 
gloominess of disposition; induce a languor, or in- 
vigorate the mental powers. The influence of Nar- 
cotics upon the mind is universally noticed. The 
exhilarating effects of opiates, the extravagant wild- 
ness, the pleasing delirium with which they affect 
the brain, the Elysian pleasures they sometimes com- 
municate to the imagination, and the consequent 
torpor and debility diffused over the whole system, 
have been frequently noticed. Under their stimu- 
lating influence, man has shown himself equal to un- 
dertakings which it was apparent madness to at- 
tempt ; and the subsequent depression has marked 
him for a coward. The effects of spirituous and 
fermented liquours are no less obvious, as e,very one 
has too frequent occasions to remark. These effects 
are observed to vary according to the quality of 
the liquor, the previous state of the subject's mind, 
or the temperament of his body. Some kinds of 
potations have a tendency to induce a pleasing stu- 
pefaction ; so that if they do not inspire new ideas, 
L'hey seem to render the Sot perfectly contented 
with the few he possesses. These are the frequent 
effects of malt liquors, and the ingredients mixed 
with them. While other liquors, as the sparkling 
Champaign, exhilarate the spirits to an unusual de- 
gree, and promote a flow of lively and witty ideas. 
Tempers naturally warm and impetuous are, gene- 
rally, very litigious and quarrelsome in their cups. 
Others are rendered quarrelsome in a state of in- 
toxication, contrary to their usual dispositions, 
through the disagreeable irritation diffused over the 
system, by the unusual stimulus. Some persons, on 
the other hand, who are surrounded with distracting 
17 



194 CAUSES, &c. 

cares, of oppressed with extreme poverty, having, 
for the instant, drowned thought and reflection in 
the bewitching draught, which operates like the wa- 
ters of Lethe, obtain a temporary release from their 
mental sufferings, and enjoy an extraordinary and 
frantic flow of spirits, in the oblivion of their 
misery. 

Instances similar to the above are infinitely nume- 
rous ; but these are sufficient to illustrate the fact, 
that many circumstances, by primarily affecting the 
body, produce a correspondent change upon the Mind ; 
strengthen many of its affections, and pre-dispose to 
passions and emotions, by which it would not other- 
wise have been affected. It may be remarked, in 
general, that the sensibility of the system, or sus- 
ceptibility of impression, when greatly increased by 
intoxication or any other cause, will render the same 
individual amorous, or generous, or courageous, or 
passionate and quarrelsome, according as occasions 
and incidents favourable to one or other of these 
affections and emotions may present themselves. 

Thus we have enumerated the principal causes, 
exerting a powerful influence over the affections; 
which occasion that great diversity observable in 
the human species, endowed with similar capaci- 
ties, and apparently placed in similar situations : 
causes, by the influence of which, one class of ra- 
tional beings differs so essentially from another 
equally rational ; Individuals from Individuals in 
each class, and Individuals so frequently from them- 
selves. 

Our remarks have been extended far beyond the 
limits proposed ; but we have been imperceptibly 
carried forwards both by the singularity and impor- 
tance of the subject ; which would require volumes 
to do it justice, and which volumes could scarcely 
exhaust. 



&e. 195 



CHAPTER HI. 

PARTICULAR EFFECTS RESULTING FROM THE OPERA- 
TION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS, CONSI- 
DERED. 

In every part of our Analytical Inquiries, the 
powerful influence of the passions and stronger af- 
fections upon the whole system, has been manifest- 
ed. The sudden changes made in the state of the 
mind, respecting particular objects, and the effects 
as instantaneously communicated to the corpore- 
al frame, according to the nature and force of the 
impression, have been repeatedly considered. We 
have also remarked, that as the exciting causes are 
of very different and opposite natures, they possess 
various degrees of merit and demerit ; and that some 
of them being of a pleasant, others of an unplea- 
sant influence, they excite correspondent sensations 
within us, as long as we remain under this immedi- 
ate influence. Such peculiarities are productive 
of certain effects and characteristic states, different 
from the primary object of the passion, although 
they are so intimately connected with it. These 
effects may be placed under the following heads : 
The physical, or medical influence of the passions ; 
their metaphysical, or influence upon the train of 
our ideas, correspondent language, &c. ; their mo- 
ral, or influence upon character and happiness. 
These remain to be briefly considered. 



SECTION I. 

MEDICAL INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS. 

If we advert to the strong impression made by 
every violent emotion upon the corporeal system, 
we shall not be surprised that the sudden and pow- 



196 MEDICAL INFLUENCE 

erful changes produced should, under certain cir- 
cumstances, exert a medical influence, in common 
with many other causes which act powerfully upon 
(he body. Accordingly, have the Passions and Af- 
fections of the mind, uniformly had a place given 
them among the non-naturals, as they are termed, 
or those incidental causes which may occasionally 
induce either a salutary or morbid effect upon the 
body ; such as air, exercise, rest, watchings, medi- 
caments, food, heat, cold, &c. 

To enter minutely into this subject, to enume- 
rate the various facts, upon which our observations 
and assertions are founded, to advance and defend 
any particular theory, would be totally foreign from 
the nature and design of this treatise, and become 
tedious to the class of Readers, for whom it is prin- 
cipally designed. Yet some observations upon 
the influence of the passions in the medical depart- 
ment, necessarily belong to a general history of the 
passions. 

It is not agreed in what manner salutary or per- 
nicious effects are produced, by the instrumentality 
of the passions. Without adopting any particular 
hypothesis, it will be sufficient for our purpose to 
remark, that the Physicians of the present day gene- 
rally ascribe the primary changes to their influence 
upon the nervous power, or grand principle of vi- 
tality ; by which animated bodies are rendered sus- 
ceptible of an infinite variety of impressions. In 
consequence of this influence, either the system in 
general, or some particular organ, is made to devi- 
ate from the exercise of those functions on which 
health depends ; or is restored to its pristine office, 
after such deviations have taken place. 

Not to inquire deeply into the laws of physiology 
and pathology, I shall only add that such bodies, or 
such circumstances, as are able to effect any impor- 
tant changes, produce these effects, — either by tem- 
perating every inordinate and irregular action, — by 
infusing a salutary vigour, in opposition to languor 



OF THE PASSIONS. 197 

and inactivity, — by exciting to some excess, through 
the power of their stimulus, — by inducing a tempo- 
rary torpor, — or by permanently debilitating the 
frame. These are properties which perfectly cor- 
respond with effects produced by the different Pas- 
sions and Affections of the mind : some of which 
manifestly elevate and invigorate the system, — 
others greatly depress, — some of them violently irri- 
tate, — others induce a torpid languor, — and others 
an incurable atonia, A few instances will illustrate 
these remarks. 

But as deviation and restoration refer to some 
standard, we must first suggest that the lively, yet 
temperate action of the vital influence, through 
every part of the system, constitutes the perfection 
of health. The Mind, undisturbed by any violent 
emotions, agitations, or depressions of a corporeal 
nature, is able to exercise its noblest powers with a 
tranquil vigour. The Body continues in the regu- 
lar discharge of its proper functions, without the 
least sensation of difficulty and embarrassment. 
Respiration is free and easy, neither requiring con- 
scious exertion, nor even a thought. The action 
of the heart and arteries, with the consequent cir- 
culation of the blood, are regular and placid, nei- 
ther too rapid nor too indolent, neither laboured nor 
oppressed. Perspiration is neither checked nor ex- 
cessive. Aliments are sought with appetite, enjoy- 
ed with a relish, and digested with -facility. Every 
secretion and excretion is duly performed. The 
body is perfectly free from pain, oppression, hebe- 
tude, and every species of uneasiness ; and a cer- 
tain vivacity and vigour, not to be described, reign 
through the system. 

Hope. 

The effects of that cordial, Hope, are peculiarly 
favourable to this envied state. In its more tem- 
perate exercise, it communicates a mild, but delec- 
17* 



198 MEDICAL INFLUENCE 

table sensation to the heart. It elevates and invi- 
gorates both mind and body. Its grateful stimulus 
produces a pleasing and salutary flow of the animal 
spirits, and difRises a temperate vivacity over the 
system, directing a due degree of energy to every 
part. In short, it is the only passion or affection, 
which unites moderation with vigour, checks every 
violent impetus, and removes every species of mor» 
bid languor. 

By comparing the effects peculiar to the passion 
of Hope, with the above description of perfect 
health, the closest analogy will immediately become 
obvious. Its characteristic is to produce a salutary 
medium, between every excess and defect of opera- 
tion, in every function. Consequently, it has a ten- 
dency to calm the troubled action of the vessels, to 
check and sooth the violent and irregular impetus 
of the nervous system, and to administer a benefi- 
cial stimulus to the oppressed and debilitated pow- 
ers of nature. Hence it has been the constant 
practice of Physicians, to support the hopes of their 
patients in the most alarming diseases, of almost 
every description. But it is peculiarly beneficial in 
those disorders which proceed from fear, sorrow, 
and every species of anxiety, or which occasion a 
great prostration of strength, and dejection of spirits. 
In intermittent and pestilential fevers, and in vari- 
ous chronic complaints, the most efficacious reme- 
dies have proved inert, if administered to persons 
destitute of Hope ; while an unmeaning farrago, 
which could scarcely be deemed innocent, taken 
with a confidence of success, have exceeded, in 
their efficacy, the utmost efforts of the most skilful 
practitioner. 

Hope therefore demands a place among the me- 
dicaments that are the mildest and most grateful in 
their, operation, and exhilarating in their effects. 



or THE PASSIONS. 199 



Joy, 



The medicinal influence of Joy is very similarto 
lhat of hope. But in its general effect, it is a more 
powerful stimulant. Joy diffuses a much greater 
vivacity over the whole system. It quickens the 
circulation of the blood, and, in its first impulse, it 
frequently excites violent palpitations of the heart. 
It renders the eyes peculiarly lively and animated, 
and sometimes when the mind has been previously 
in a state of anxious fear, it stimulates the lachry- 
mal gland to the secretion of tears, accompanied 
with redness, and a sensation of warmth in the coun- 
tenance. Both Mind and Body become so alert, 
that they cannot refrain from some lively manifes- 
tation of their feelings, either by loud acclamations, 
or extravagant gestures. 

All that has been said of hope is applicable to 
this passion, under its more moderate influence. 
But as it is in general a much more powerful stimu- 
lus, in many cases it is still more efficacious. In all 
those diseases, where the powers of nature are par- 
ticularly oppressed and impeded, it is a potent re- 
medy. In leucho-phlegmatic habits, where languid 
circulation, hebetude, chilness, &c. are prevalent, 
the grateful cordial of Joy, acts like a charm. 
Pervading the whole system, it instantaneously pro- 
duces universal vigour, imparts vivacity to the most 
indolent, and paints the most pallid cheek with the 
glow of health. We are also assured that by its 
penetrating, exciting, and exhilarating power, it has 
cured Paralytics ; and it has restored to their sen- 
ses those who had been rendered insane through the 
excess of melancholy. 

But, as every thing possessing great energy may. 
in some circumstances, prove injurious, either by its 
own excess, or by co-operating with other causes, 
thus have the transports of Joy, though in their na- 



200 MEDICAL INFLUENCE 

ture so salutary, sometimes induced diseases, and 
sometimes rendered them more severe. They have 
increased the paroxysms of acute fevers, aggravat- 
ed inflammatory symptoms ; and in plethoric habits, 
have been productive of apoplexies. Immoderate 
and ungovernable transports of Joy, have sometimes 
induced epilepsies, catalepsies, paralysis, and that 
class of maladies which arise from too great agita- 
tion of mind, in delicate and susceptible frames. 

There are many instances upon record, of sud- 
den death having been occasioned by the hasty 
communication of very joyful tidings. Like a 
stroke of electricity, indiscreetly directed, the vio- 
lent percussion has probably produced a paralysis 
of the heart, by the excess of its stimulus. These 
incidents are most likely to take place in subjects 
who were, at the instant, deeply oppressed with the 
opposite passions of fear and anxiety ; by which 
the natural and salutary action of the heart and ar- 
teries was greatly impeded. This, of consequence, 
will create a resistance to the impulse, and render it 
more liable to destroy the tone of that sensible or- 
gan. In most of the instances recorded, the per- 
sons who have fallen a sacrifice to the excess of Joy 
were in this particular situation ; nor was there an 
opportunity given to soften the agony of fear, by a 
cautious manner of communicating the tidings. 
(See Note T.) 

Cheerfulness, hilarity, and social mirth, are in their 
effects so similar to hope and moderate joy, that 
their medical powers may be collected from what 
has been observed concerning these. Operating 
also by the laws of social sympathy, they promote 
a delectable flow of spirits, which afford a tempo- 
rary relief from the oppressive and pernicious in- 
fluence of cares and solicitudes, refreshes and exhi- 
larates, after the fatigues of labour, either corpore- 
al or mental ; and thus, by renovating the Man, in- 
spires him with fresh vigour, to discharge the ardu- 
ous duties which his station in life may require. 



OF THE TASSIONS. 20! 



Love. 



Love has been considered, in the former part of 
this Treatise, both as an Affection and a Passion. 
As an Affection, in which complacency and good- 
will are the principal ingredients, it places the cor- 
poreal frame in a state of pleasing tranquillity ; in 
the salutary medium between languor and inertness 
on the one side, or of violent incitement on the 
other. Its influence, therefore, is too mild to be at 
any time prejudicial ; and it is calculated to mode- 
rate the effects each extreme is capable of produc- 
ing. General benevolence has also a similar ten- 
dency. It escapes the rude effects of all the irri- 
tating passions, and diffuses a salutary placidness 
over the whole system. 

Love between the sexes, commencing with pre* 
dilection, and stealing into warm personal attach- 
ment, when reciprocal, and unalloyed by adventitious 
causes, inspires the mind with delight, connected 
with a satisfaction unknown to other delights. It 
is the reward of persevering hope, and corres- 
ponds with that pleasing passion, in its beneficent 
effects on the corporeal system. It is so inimical 
to the rougher passions and emotions, that they 
cannot possibly subsist together. The blandish- 
ments of Love have tamed the most ferocious na- 
tures, and calmed the most turbulent spirits. The 
Passion rising to desire, acts as a powerful stimu- 
lant ; gives fresh energy to the system, diffusing a 
general warmth, and increasing the sensibility of the 
frame. 

As the sexual attachment is one of the strongest 
propensities of animal nature, and as it is peculiar- 
ly exposed, in civil society, to numberless contra- 
rieties, it frequently becomes the source of many 
other affections and emotions, such as hope, fear, 
joy, sorrow, anger, envy, jealousy, &c. 



202 MEDICAL INFLUENCE* 

Such various effects of Love, according to their 
complexities and degrees, must, it is self-apparent, 
vary their pathological and therapeutic influence 
on the animal economy ; and medical Writers have 
accordingly given us numerous instances both of 
its salutary and pernicious powers. Its brisk in- 
citements, in cold and torpid temperaments, have 
removed the various indispositions, to which such 
temperaments are exposed. It has fortified the 
body against dangers, difficulties, and hardships, 
which appeared superior to human force. It is 
said to have cured intermittents ; acting, probably, 
like invigorating cordials, administered before the 
access of the cold fit, by which its return is pre- 
vented, and the habit destroyed, to the influence of 
which this disease is particularly exposed. In its 
violent and impetuous energies, it has excited in- 
flammatory fevers, and a larger train of evils pro- 
ceeding from the excess of stimulus, than it will 
be necessary to enumerate. It has, also, in conse- 
quence of that contrariety of passions to which it 
is subject, occasioned the most dangerous and ob- 
stinate maladies ; hysterics, epilepsies, hectic fevers, 
the rage of madness, or the still more pitiable state 
of confirmed and wasting melancholy. 

Anger, 

The symptoms indicating a violent paroxysm of 
Anger, as strongly indicate the excessive perturba- 
tion it occasions throughout the system. The red- 
ness of countenance, the fire flashing in the eyes, 
the strong and agitated pulse, the wonderful increase 
of muscular strength, for the instant, manifest that 
all the powers of nature are roused to the most vio- 
lent exertions. Anger acts as a stimulus of the most 
potent kind, upon the muscular, vascular, and ner- 
vous systems. It is not surprising, therefore, that 
its pathological effects should be numerous and alar- 
ming. Inflammatory and bilious fevers, haemorrha- 



OP THE PASSIONS. 203 

ges, apoplexies, inflammation of the brain, mania ? 
have arisen from the increased impetuosity it has 
given to the vascular system ; as also sudden death, 
either from ruptured vessels, or the excess of its 
stimulating power, upon the vital organs; particu- 
larly in plethoric and sanguineous temperaments. 
Palsies, epilepsies, aphonia, or loss of voice, di- 
arrhoeas, involution of the intestines, and those 
diseases which may be attributed to the excessive 
perturbation of the nervous system, and also to ex- 
hausted strength, have too frequently succeeded to 
its tremendous exertions. In short, as there is 
no passion so turbulent, so is there none so imme- 
diately dangerous as excessive anger. 

Yet even this passion has been occasionally bene- 
ficial. As there are cases in which arsenic itself ex- 
erts a medicinal virtue, thus we are assured, by wri- 
ters of veracity, that there are instances in which the 
passion of Anger, by giving unusual energy to the 
system, has conquered such diseases as demanded a 
potent stimulus. We are told that it has cured 
agues, restored speech to the dumb, and for several 
days arrested the cold hand of death ; that its stimu- 
lating power has, like the electric shock, proved a 
remedy in rheumatic affections, palsies, and various 
chronic complaints. 

Fortitude. 

The medical virtues of Fortitude are universally 
admitted. The determined resolution of the Mind, 
communicates a correspondent energy to the body. 
Cheery hope is, in these cases, a powerful auxili- 
ary. Fortitude is not only a preservative against 
the pathological effects of fear and grief, but it ren- 
ders the body less subject to the morbid influence 
©f putrid and contagious diseases. It enables the 
warrior to support hardships and fatigues, which 
would otherwise prove fatal to him. In the hour of 
eonflict, the hopes of conquest, the power of social 



204 MEDICAL INFLUENCE 

sympathy, a spirit of emulation, and enkindled 
anger against the foe, impel to achievements, to 
which the powers of nature would be unequal, at 
any other period. Those who have had the best 
opportunity of observing, assure us that an army is 
most exposed to diseases when it is in a state of total 
inactivity. 

Sorro7v. 

Whoever attends to the pathological effects of 
Sorrow, and marks its different stages : — the stupe- 
faction and horror with which the sufferer is some- 
times seized, upon the sudden communication of 
evil tidings ; — the agitations which immediately suc- 
ceed, introducing subsequent languor and debility ; — 
and the deep melancholy into which the mind sub- 
sides, after the first conflicts are passed, will be pre- 
pared to credit the narrations, that excessive sorrow 
has been the cause of sudden deaths, of confirmed 
melancholy, lass of memory, imbecility of mind, 
of nervous fevers, of hypochondriac complaints ; — 
that it renders the body peculiarly susceptible of 
contagious disorders ; and that the loss of appetite, 
perpetual watchfulness, confirmed apathy to every 
thing social and exhilarating, the attention immuta- 
bly fixed upon the cause of its distress, &c. have 
rapidly introduced the most terrible diseases, and 
hastened the dissolution of the sufferer. 

Nor does any case present itself, in which the 
passion of Sorrow, or the affection of grief, have 
produced salutary effects, unless by their being cal- 
culated to moderate the transports of anger ; and 
thus they may have prevented or removed the pa- 
thological symptoms of which such transports arc 
productive. 



OJ THE PASSIONS. 205 



Fear. 



The changes instantly induced upon the bod) 
toy abject Fear ; the universal rigour, the contracted 
and pallid countenance, the deep sunk eye, the 
quivering lip, the chillness, torpor, prostration of 
strength, insufferable anxiety about the region of 
the heart, &c. are so perfectly analogous to the 
morbid influence of excessive cold, to the symp- 
toms of typhus fevers, and the first stage of inter- 
mittents, that no one can doubt of the pernicious 
influence of this passion, in pre-disposing the body 
to the like diseases, and in aggravating their 
symptoms. Fear is peculiarly dangerous in every 
species of contagion. It has instantaneously chan- 
ged the complexion of wounds, and rendered 
them fatal. It has occasioned gangrenes, indura- 
tions of the gland, epilepsies, the suppression of 
natural or beneficial secretions. It has induced 
a permanent stupor on the brain ; and the first hor- 
rors of the imagination have, in some cases, made 
too deep an impression to be effaced, by the most 
• avourable change of circumstances. We have 
seen that Joy itself, though in its nature so pleasing. 
and in its general effect so salutary, has proved the 
:ause of sudden death; it is therefore not diffi- 
cult to admit that the agonizing effects of this dread- 
ful passion, may be able to paralyze the grand organ 
of circulation, and like some pestilential diseases, 
instantaneously induce the torpor of death. 

So pernicious are the natural and characteristic 
effects of Fear! Yet in that state of body where 
a sedative power is requisite, and where a con- 
siderable degree of torpor has a tendency to check 
too great incitement, even this passion may become 
beneficial. Thus it has been known to relieve ex- 
cruciating fits of the gout ; to have rendered ma- 
niacs calm and composed ; and in some cases, it has 
restored them to the regular use of their faculties. 
18 



200 MEDICAL INFLUENCE, 

The effects of Fear, in affording temporary relie* 
in the toothach, are universally known ; acting ai 
some system atics express themselves, by its se- 
dative power, by which an inflammatory tension 
is appeased ; or as others, by inducing a torpor on 
the nerves, and thus rendering them insensible to 
pain. 

Terror, which is the agitation of Fear, sometimes 
produces effects upon the body, common to agita- 
tion, simply. In some cases, it rouses the energy 
of the system to an unusual degree ; and in others, 
it produces the irregular and convulsive action of 
the muscular system. Hence it is said to have 
caused, in some instances, and in others, to have 
cured the attacks of catalepsies, epilepsies, and 
other spasmodic disorders. We read of its having 
cured tertian fevers induced by fear ; — restored 
speech to the dumb, and motion to paralytic limbs ; 
— that by agitating the vascular system, it has been 
productive of haemorrhages ; — and also that it has 
been successful in dropsical habits. Perhaps the 
contractile power of fear, united with the agitations 
of terror, have both constricted and stimulated the 
relaxed and indolent absorbents, and enabled them 
to renew their office. The passion of Terror has 
frequently excited languid hypochondriacs, to exer- 
tions they had deemed impossible ; and all their 
former maladies have been obliterated by their ap- 
prehensions of impending danger. 

Shame* 

Shame is sometimes connected with Fear, some- 
times with Terror; and consequently it will, in 
particular instances, manifest symptoms belonging 
to these emotions. But young persons of great sen- 
sibility, who are delicately susceptible of honour or 
disgrace, are apt to blush at every trifle, without 
violent paroxysms either of fear or of terror. In 
these cases, where the effects of Shame are the least 



OF THE PASSIONS. 207 

complicated, though they be strong, they are mo- 
mentary. The heart is certainly agitated, some- 
times with pleasure, sometimes with pain ; but as 
the suffusion chiefly manifests itself in the face, and 
in the smaller vessels spread over the neck and 
breast, the singular effects of Shame cannot be at- 
tributed, solely, to the sudden impetus given to the 
heart. The Passion itself seems to have an influ- 
ence principally local ; which we know to be the 
case with some other stimulants. The modest 
blush, unmixed with guilt or fear, seems to be inert, 
respecting medical effects. Nor are there any in- 
stances of its having been decidedly beneficial or 
injurious. It seems most calculated to increase 
cutaneous inflammations ; but facts are wanting to 
confirm this idea. 

Attention of Mind* 

Habitual attention of mind, to any particular ob- 
ject, should it be of a pleasing nature, and proceed 
from a passionate fondness for that object, has pro- 
ved pernicious to the constitution. The fatigue of 
the brain has indicated itself by cephalalgias, giddi- 
ness, &c— the animal spirits have been exhausted; 
the body has been rendered insensible to its accus- 
tomed stimuli ; weariness and universal lassitude, 
prostration of strength, loss of appetite, indigestion, 
flatulencies, &c. have ensued ; and the whole sys- 
tem has been rendered very susceptible of various 
morbid impressions. Yet salutary effects have is- 
sued from an eager attention to things novel, inte- 
resting, and mysterious. It has thus proved effica- 
cious in diseases subjected to periodical returns. 
It has prevented hysteric and epileptic fits, and 
charmed away agues. By connecting the perni- 
cious effects of habitual attention to the same ob- 
ject, with those accompanying fear, anxiety, sor- 
row, it is easy to perceive that the union of these 
must be peculiarly pernicious ; that when the whoh 1 



20S MEDICAL INFLUENCE, &ZC. 

attention is employed upon things mournful, irrita- 
ting, or calculated to inspire painful apprehen- 
sions, — when it is absorbed by corroding cares and 
anxious fears, — when it is the prey of chagrin and 
disappointment, the body may be expected to fall a 
speedy victim to the combined influence of such 
deadly poisons* 

Imagination. 

The power of Imagination in inducing and re- 
moving diseases, has been generally acknowledged. 
But this imagination could only produce its effects 
by the strong Affections which accompany it ; 
otherwise it would be as inert as the most abstract 
idea. These affections are indicated in the various 
passions and emotions we have been contemplating. 
ft is, moreover, worthy of notice, that in every 
powerful exertion of the Imagination, some change 
lakes place in the body correspondent with its 
nature. In a keen appetite, upon the thoughts oi 
some favourite viand, the salivary glands are stimu- 
lated to a secretion of saliva, as preparatory to 
deglutition. We feel ourselves collected, firm, 
elevated, upon the lively representation of the firm 
heroic, dignified conduct of another. The blood 
thrills in our veins, and the skin corrugates, at the 
description of any thing peculiarly horrible ; and 
under the strong impression of fictitious danger, the 
attitude of our bodies attempts to evade it ! Full 
confidence in the mystic power of another, places 
the whole system in a situation most favourable to 
the effects, which the object of his confidence un- 
dertakes to produce. This will explain much of 
what is genuine, in the pretensions of magnetizers : 
and the exaggerating dispositions of both operator 
and patient, will contribute to explain the rest. 
(See Note U.) 

The above sketch, concise and imperfect as it is. 
will be sufficient to evince, that the Passions and 



ON THOUGHT, &C. 2Q9 

Emotions have a medical influefice upon the body : 
and that each of them has its own characteristic 
influence, in its general mode of acting, although 
various and opposite effects may sometimes be pro- 
duced by incidental circumstances. This, how- 
ever, is precisely the case with the most esteemed 
medicaments ; — with every thing which is deemed 
noxious or beneficial in the mineral, vegetable, 
and animal kingdoms ;— and with every part of 
nature, which possesses the power of acting upon 
the human frame. 

In this investigation the Author has simply en- 
deavoured to be the historian of facts, without in- 
tending to pay any deference to theory. But as 
medical language has chiefly been formed by diffe- 
rent theories, which have most rapidly succeeded 
to each other, it is difficult to use terms which do 
not acknowledge some system or other for their 
parent ; or to express ideas, without seeming to 
have a predilection for one hypothesis in prefe- 
rence to others, where the sole object is to establish 
indisputable facts. (See Note W.) 



SECTION II. 

INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS ON THOUGHTS AND 
LANGUAGE. 

It has been remarked in our Analysis, that when- 
ever any subject presents itself to the mind, with 
sufficient force to excite a passion, or a very strong 
affection, all the powers of the imagination become 
immediately active. The whole soul is engaged 
upon its object, and the whole train of ideas is 
turned into a channel correspondent with the view 
we entertain of that. The mind, with wonderful 
facility, collects together whatever has been laid 
up in the storehouse of the memory, or can be 
combined by the force of the imagination. Every 



210 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS 

thing alien is totally excluded ; and it is in vain 
(hat others who are free from the impulse, attempt 
to suggest ideas of a contrary tendency. Reason 
becomes 'impotent, nor can the attention be direct- 
ed from such circumstances as are intimately con- 
nected with the exciting cause ; and these are mag 
nified and aggravated to the utmost extent. Sub- 
jects of joy appear at the instant, to be the harbin- 
gers of essential and permanent bliss. The evik 
we fear, the injuries we suffer, the losses we sustain, 
seem to be the greatest that could possibly have 
been endured. 

This state of mind not only manifests itself by 
gestures, looks, and tones, correspondent with the 
nature of the passion ; but it has a characteristic 
influence upon the language and expressions em- 
ployed to give vent to the passion, as it is emphati- 
cally termed. 

Upon the first impulse, the thoughts are tumultu- 
ous and confused. A thousand haif-formed sugges- 
tions and apprehensions crowd in upon us, in rapid 
or disorderly succession ! 

Whoever contemplates the effects of the passions- 
at this moment, will discover their perfect corres- 
pondence with the nature of those introductory 
emotions of Surprise, Wonder, and Astonishment, 
described in the analytical part of this Treatise, 
It is manifestly through their influence that the 
mind is thus confused, and that every idea is embar- 
rassment and conjecture. The Wonder and Amaze- 
ment, so precipitately excited, are accompanied by 
strong, abrupt, and indefinite language. The first 
impulse of Surprise deprives the subject of the 
power of utterance ; and the first exertions of this 
returning power consists in loud exclamations, 
adapted both to the nature of the emotion itself, 
and to its confusion and wonder, relative to the 
object. 

As all these introductory emotions are obviously 
founded on the weakness, ignorance, and conscious 



OS THOUGHT. &C. 21 i 

inferiority of our nature, thus do they prompt to 
Language which confesses an humiliated state. 
Powers above us are, as it were, instinctively ad- 
dressed, either with exclamations of gratitude, of 
appeal, imprecation, or invocation of aid! Incredu- 
lity itself becomes most credulous ; will thank the 
heavens for causes of excessive joy, — call aloud 
upon higher Beings for help in the moment of dan- 
ger, — mourn its destiny. — or curse its stars in the 
hour of vexation and disappointment ! Those who, 
in a tranquil state of mind, ridicule the idea of future 
retribution, often become the most extravagant in 
their benedictions or imprecations, at the instant of 
tumultuous passion ! 

After the first impulse of passion, we begin to ad- 
vert to the particular state in which the exciting 
cause has placed us. As a lively imagination is 
always disposed to magnify, we deem ourselves for 
the instant, the most happy or the most wretched of 
mortals ; and a new train of thoughts is suggested 
to prove or illustrate the supposition. 

Thus as the passion approaches somewhat nearer 
to an affection, the mind recovers, in some degree, 
its power over itself; yet it is still carried forward- 
by the torrent of ideas, which this novel situation 
has inspired, and which never would have been 
suggested, with such copiousness and energy, in a 
more tranquil state. As it still continues to feel 
strongly, so it is eager to do justice to its feelings, 
by the strength, pertinency, and impetuosity of it^ 
Language. Common terms are too cold, or too 
limited, to do justice to the energy of thought ; 
and it perceives no exaggerations in expressions the 
most exaggerated! All nature is ransacked for 
points of resemblance, to set forth the novel situa- 
tion, in the strongest colours. Impetuosity equally 
despises precision or detail. It eagerly seizes upoii 
tropes and figures the most concise, and the mosi 
suited to its new conceptions ! 

All nature is full of analogy ! Every thing that 



212 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS 

exists possesses certain qualities or properties, 
which are not so peculiar to the individual, as to 
he destitute of some resemblance to other things 
that may be, in various respects, essentially differ- 
ent : and many of these properties are possessed, 
in an extraordinary degree by particular objects. 
To these the mind rapidly adverts, as descriptive of 
the peculiarities of its own situation ; and as in the 
warmth of our sensations we are disposed to exag- 
gerate every thing, thus are we disposed to make 
quick transitions from one property to another, 
seated in the object referred to, by which a peculiar 
colouring or cast of character, is given to the sub- 
ject which interests us, and the desired energy is 
imparted to our feelings concerning it. To this, 
associated ideas and affections lend a very consid- 
erable aid. Thus it is that we not only catch the 
precise point of resemblance, but we instantaneous- 
ly elevate or debase a subject, hold it forth to ad- 
miration or contempt, renderit respectable or ridicu- 
lous, according to the sources from whence our al- 
lusions are borrowed. 

When passions and emotions have given place to 
more permanent affections, Language becomes less 
vehement and more diffuse. Under the influence 
of a particular affection, the mind loves to expand 
itself upon the circumstances which gave it exist- 
ence, and to dwell upon such minutiae as have a 
tendency to feed its flame. This under the influ- 
ence of resentment, every species of aggravation is 
deliberately dwelt upon; every thing in the con- 
duct of the aggressor which may augment his cul- 
pability, and every part of our own demeanour, are 
brought forwards to manifest the greatness of the 
offence, and how little we deserved it. In a state 
of fearful Apprehension, every possibility of danger 
is placed before us with all its horrors; — every dif- 
ficulty is magnified ; — and in every remedy or plan 
of security proposed, busy apprehension suggests 
reasons to evince that it will be ineffectual. In 



ON THOUGHT, &C 213 

Sorrow we delight to expatiate upon the excellent 
qualities of the particular object, the pleasures and 
advantages of which we are now deprived ; and the 
imagination enumerates all the evils that will proba- 
bly ensue from the privation. Under the influence 
of Love, the mind dwells upon the accomplishments 
which have inspired the affection, recalls the scenes 
of pleasure past, anticipates those which are to 
come ; and in the expression of these feelings, or in 
acknowledgment of this influence, it purposely pro- 
longs the phraseology, which best prolongs the fas- 
cinating idea. 

The address of Eve to her consort in a state 
where the best affections alone could be indulged* 
is so beautiful an illustration of this subject, that a 
transcript of the whole passage cannot appear 
tedious. 

With thee conversing, I forget all time ; 
All seasons and their change, all please alike. 
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, 
With charm of earliest birds ; pleasant the sun. 
When first on this delightful land he spreads 
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit and flower. 
Glist'ning with dew ; fragrant the fertile earth 
After soft showers, and sweet the coming on 
Of grateful evening mild ; then silent night, 
With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon, 
And these the gems of heav'n her starry train ; 
But neither breath of morn, when she ascends 
With charms of earliest birds ; nor rising sun 
On this delightful land ; nor herb, fruit, flower, 
Glist'ning with dew; nor fragrance after showers ; 
Nor grateful evening mild ; nor silent night, 
With this her solemn bird, nor walk by noon, 
Or glittering starlight, without thee is sweet. 

PARADISE LOST. B. IV. L. 639. 

It is observable, that when a passion or a strong 
affection is not suddenly raised, but is produced by 
deliberate meditation upon the subject, the process 
is opposite to the preceding. From Indifference, 
the mind begins to conceive an Affection of one 
kind or other ; and according to the discovered na~ 
ture, magnitude, or importance of the object, it 



214 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS 

may gradually work itself up, as the phrase is, into 
passion and ecstasy. In such cases, the train of 
thoughts will flow with increased velocity and force, 
according to the increased interest taken in the 
subject. Sterility of sentiment and of language is 
succeeded by a rapid flow of each. Pertinent 
thoughts and copious expressions immediately pre- 
sent themselves, which the deepest study and all 
the powers of recollection, would not have been 
able to produce. They are only to be inspired by 
affections. In this state of mind, the Language 
gradually changes its tone ; from the cool didactic 
style, it rises into the animated and energetic : 
though it seldom, if ever, indicates the embarrass- 
ment and confusion of thought, which are the 
offspring of wonder and surprise. Excess of ani- 
mation will indeed sometimes check utterance, and 
the orator will feel a deficiency of Language, to do 
justice to the numerous ideas which crowd in upon 
the mind. See many excellent observations on 
this subject in Elements of Criticism, Vol. IL 
Comparisons : Figures, 

If the above remarks be admitted as pertinent, 
they will point out the difference betwixt the lan- 
guage of the Passions and Affections, and that of 
cool dispassionate reason. The one is the language 
of feeling, which attempts to enforce some interest- 
ing idea ; the other that of discrimination, which 
carefully marks the distinctions and differences which 
subsist in things apparently analogous. The one is 
prone to substitute strong impressions for realities, 
and to mistake exaggerations for accurate statements : 
the other analyzes and separates truth from error, 
facts from misrepresentations. The language of 
Passion and of strong Affections is always employed 
in pleading some cause. Aiming to give to that, the 
ascendancy over every other consideration, it rapid- 
ly collects and sets forth, in glowing colours, every 
circumstance favourable to its object, regardless of 
whatever may be advanced in opposition ; while 



ON THOUGHT, &C. 21.3 

the language of Reason is that of a Judge, who com- 
pares, balances, and decides, according to the force 
of evidence, without being deceived by the force of 
expression, or seduced by the sympathy of the pas- 
sions. 

In these characters it is that the distinction be- 
tween rhetoric and logic indicates itself. The for- 
mer attempts to persuade ; it is the province of the 
latter to convince. This employs itself in demon- 
strations, respecting the truth and nature of things ; 
the other excites to feel and act, according to the 
opinion entertained of the good or bad properties 
which they possess, and are capable of exerting. 

In our description of the different Passions and 
Affections, it was requisite to point out those exter- 
nal signs which wore the characteristic marks oi 
each ; and to note the attitudes, gestures, and ex- 
pressions of countenance, which are most correspon- 
dent to the nature of the emotion. We have only 
to subjoin upon the subject, that when utterance is 
given to thought, the tone of voice becomes a pow- 
erful auxiliary to the train of ideas suggested. Na- 
ture has accommodated the mode of utterance to 
the character of the passion. Thus it has rendered 

Joy loud and vociferous, producing strong excla- 
mations, mixed with triumphant Laughter, 

Sorrow communicates a plaintiveness to the voice, 
best adapted to wailings and lamentations. 

Anger is loud and turbulent. The voice rises 
with the passion, in order to strike terror, and si- 
lence opposition. 

Fear is oppressed and breathless, or screams aloud 
for help. 

Love is soft, soothing, insinuating, and gentle ; 
sometimes assuming the plaintiveness of sorrow, 
sometimes the vivacity of hope, and the transports 
ofjoy. 

The other compounds partake of mixed effects, 
(See Note X.) 



216 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS. 

The minute investigation of the passions in which 
we have been engaged, presents us with numerous 
observations of a moral and practical nature. But 
as the present Treatise is purposely confined to 
philosophical researches, we shall not enlarge 
upon so copious a subject. There are two inqui- 
ries, however, which although they have an intimate 
relation to morals, cannot be refused a place in the 
philosophical department. They refer to the influ- 
ence of the passions upon character, and upon hap- 
piness ; and with these we shall close the subject. 

SECTION III. 

INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS ON 
CHARACTER. 

The Nature of the Passions and Affections indul- 
ged, of the objects by which they are excited, and 
the degrees of influence and permanency, which 
they are suffered to exert upon us, constitute the 
moral characters of men ; pointing out either their 
innocence, their excellencies, or defects. 

By Character is generally understood the kind of 
reputation acquired, by the prevalent disposition of 
temper, which suggests almost every motive, and 
takes the lead in almost every action : and moral 
character refers to that prevalent temper which re- 
lates to the moral duties respecting either ourselves 
or others. This disposition consists in the preva- 
lence of affection, that is, in the habitual pleasure or 
displeasure we take in certain modes of thinking and 
acting ; and our opinion of the disposition, is regu- 
lated by the different degrees of merit or demerit, 
which in our judgment is annexed to it. Mankind 
so far agree in their opinions, that they universally 
acknowledge some actions and the affections which 
produce them, either to be innocent, or to be deser- 
ving of various degrees of approbation or censure. 
They pay due honours to characters, which appear 



ON CHARACTER. 21" 

to be formed upon the best of principles, and load 
the opposite with proportionate disgrace. 

The grand distinctions in moral conduct are indi- 
cated by the terms Virtue and Vice : and the subor- 
dinate ones under each, are either not marked, or 
they are discriminated by appropriate appellations. 

The cardinal affections of Love and Hatred, in 
themselves possess neither meritnordemerit. Found- 
ed upon the ideas of Good and Evil, which may ren- 
der our existence a blessing or a curse, they are, as it 
were, moulded in the very frame and constitution of 
all percipient beings. It is, therefore, neither a du- 
ty nor a possibility to divest ourselves of them. The 
passions, emotions, and affections, which are immedi- 
ately consequent upon these, or may be deemed sim- 
ple modifications of them, are also inseparable from 
our nature, and are both unavoidable and innocent : 
such as joy, satisfaction, contentment, hope, desire, 
fear, sorrow, anger, resentment, &c. These being 
derived from situations and circumstances, to which 
we are perpetually and necessarily exposed, are the 
natural result of impressions made upon susceptible 
beings. A virtuous or vicious Character therefore 
depends upon the nature of our choice, and the man- 
ner and extent to which those passions and emotions 
indulged, are permitted by the law of morals. Thus 
Virtue requires that the affections of love and hatred 
be properly placed ; that real, not imaginary good ; 
real, not imaginary evil, be the objects of them. It 
requires that we proportion the degrees of our affec- 
tion to the value and importance of objects ; that 
we be neither indifferent to essential worth, nor suf- 
fer things trifling and insignificant to engross the best 
of our affections. Virtue allows the first impulse of 
anger where the provocation is great ; as insensi- 
bility would invite injuries, and give to unreasona- 
ble and wicked men a decided superiority over the 
moderate and just. But Virtue forbids anger to ex- 
ceed the magnitude of the offence : being in every 
case a species of punishment, if it be excessive, thp 

19 



218 INFLUENCE OP THE PASSIONS 

surplus becomes an injustice. Virtue requires an- 
ger to be of short duration, where offences are not 
permanent; strictly prohibits it from seeking re- 
venge. Its grand object is private or public securi- 
ty, and it abhors habitual hatred and malignity. It 
allows and requires us to cherish the feelings of con- 
tempt and indignation, as long as mean and atro- 
cious vices continue ; but it absolutely commands 
us to pardon, where the character and conduct of 
the offender are changed, by repentance and refor- 
mation. Virtue stigmatizes, with peculiar disgrace, 
the want of those affections which benefits received, 
and a great superiority of character ought to call 
forth ; such as ingratitude to benefactors, and want 
of respect for superiors in wisdom and goodness. As 
we experience that the possession of the good things 
of life contribute to our happiness, we cannot be in- 
sensible to the privation of them ; Virtue accord- 
ingly permits a degree of sorrow and grief, corres- 
pondent to the nature of our loss ; but it forbids the 
obstinate indulgence of melancholy, as this forgets, 
or destroys, the benignant effects of every remain- 
ing blessing ; and it is of consequence chargeable 
with both folly and ingratitude. Virtue requires re- 
pentance, as the medium of restoration to order and 
to duty ; for this purpose it permits remorse, but ne- 
ver enjoins despair. It allows of fear as far as this 
excites to caution ; and even of terror, when the 
mind has been surprised by something tremendous ; 
but habitual fear it terms cowardice, and to terror 
perpetually excited by small causes, it gives the ap- 
pellation of pusillanimity. It approves of the emu- 
lation which animates to worthy deeds, or to ad- 
vancement in every species of excellence : nor does 
it forbid the ambition which is productive of gene- 
ral good ; but it execrates the wretch who wades 
through seas of blood, and tramples upon the slain, 
to rise above all those whom his baneful sword has 
spared. Envy, which is the antipode to benevo- 
lence, Virtue knows not : and though it admits of 



ON CHARACTER. 219 

jealous alarms upon great occasions, and prompted 
by strong presumptive evidence, yet it is a stranger 
to unauthorised suspicions. It permits the mode- 
rate desire of wealth, as the means both of comfort 
and usefulness ; but it laysrapaciousness and avarice 
under the severest interdict. It allows of self-de- 
fence, and we are occasionally inspired with strength 
and courage for the purpose ; but it disdains the use 
of treacherous means of security, and the acts of 
cruelty which characterize the barbarian and the 
coward. 

These remarks point out another distinction of 
the passions and affections, as they relate to the 
moral character, indicating a scale of comparative 
merit and dement. Some are innocent simply ; as 
hope, joy, moderate grief. Some are laudable ; 
as contentment, satisfaction, complacency. Others 
are deemed peculiarly noble. Thus the virtue of 
Benevolence is much more dignified than any of the 
affections which originate and terminate in Self. In 
the different branches of this virtue there are also 
degrees of excellence. Warm sympathetic emo- 
tions, when they prompt to peculiar exertions, are in 
higher estimation than the calmer feelings and offi- 
ces of charity ; and Mercy, by subduing resentment, 
is justly deemed more transcendent than either, 
Some feelings are so essential, that to be destitute 
of them is highly disgraceful ; as the want of Grati- 
tude. The angry passions, though they may be in- 
nocent, yet they stand upon the very brink of de- 
merit, being so proximate to injustice and cruelty. 
Some affections and dispositions are contemptible ; 
as sordid avarice, envy, malice : these are despised 
by all who are not under their influence. Ingenuous 
shame is viewed with approbation, as it indicates a 
consciousness of defect, united with reverence for 
opinion. Guilty shame, though not criminal in it- 
self, yet being the detection of criminality, it some- 
times exposes the offender to the severest contempt : 
as when it marks the countenance of a detected hypo 



220 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS 

crite : sometimes it will excite compassion, and 
prompt to forgiveness 5 when, for example, an of- 
fence, highly disreputable, is proved to be a total 
deviation from the general tenour of conduct. The 
blush indicates a mind not inured to vice. It sues 
for compassion, and proves that it is not totally un- 
worthy of it. 

Again, in our search after happiness, each par- 
ticular desire and pursuit is either deemed innocent, 
or it assumes an honourable or ignominious charac- 
ter, according to the nature of the object, the eager- 
ness with which it is followed, and the means em- 
ployed for its attainment. Some desires are dis- 
criminated by particular appellations, which serve 
to stigmatize, or do honour to the affections ; while 
others, not marking either excellence or culpability, 
have no terms of discrimination. 

Several instances of this nature have been given 
under the article of Desire ; by which it appears 
that a prevalent love of virtue and detestation of 
vice have, in every case where personal interest has 
not perverted the judgment, and alienated the af- 
fections, taught all mankind, without previous con- 
sultation or conspiracy, to invent the concisest 
mode of testifying approbation or disapprobation, 
according to the apparent degrees of merit or de- 
merit. Similar to the plan of an universal language, 
which some have deemed practicable, or to pre- 
concerted signals, and telegraphic signs, very com- 
plex ideas are conveyed by simple terms, which 
immediately express satire or applause, crown with 
honour, or call forth abhorrence. The numerous 
occasions which incessantly present themselves, of 
expressing our opinions of human actions, and our 
eagerness to approve or censure, render us impa- 
tient of paraphrase, or circumlocution. 

It is also observable that our ideas of Character 
are invariably formed, according to the habitual ten- 
dency of disposition and conduct to become benefi- 
cial or pernicious ; that is to promote or to d^troy 



ON CHARACTER. 221 

Good! Where conduct has no immediate relation 
to these, it does not call forth animadversion. In 
proportion as it produces and disseminates Good ; 
as it makes exertions and consents to liberal sacrifi* 
ces for this purpose, does it meet with our applause 
and admiration. In proportion as Vice diffuses 
Misery, as it is the result of mean and selfish princi* 
pies, indicated by pre-concerted plans and propen- 
sities, to sacrifice the felicity or others to our own 
narrow personal gratifications, it becomes detestable 
and abhorrent. Hence Compassion meets with 
warmer applause than the simple love of Justice, 
because Compassion is an actual participation in the 
sufferings of another; while Justice is only a due 
solicitude that they shall not suffer any unmerited 
injury from us. A merciful and forgiving disposition 
is still more noble, because it generously removes a 
very powerful impediment, which the offending party 
himself has raised, against the exercise of our com" 
passion, for the distress to which his injustice to- 
wards us has exposed him. On the other side, 
Treachery and Cruelty are more detestable than 
common acts of injustice, because the one is a 
grosser abuse of that confidence without which so- 
ciety cannot subsist ; and the other manifests not 
only inordinate self-love, but the want of that na- 
tural affection which is due to every being ; substi- 
tuting the affection of hatred in its place. 

It is further manifest from the above remarks; 
that both Virtue and Vice are the offspring of pas- 
sions and affections in themselves innocent. The 
natural desires and affections implanted in our very 
make, are void of guilt. Respecting these, virtue 
simply requires a proper choice, innocent pursuits, 
aud moderation in our enjoyments, Vice consists 
in an improper, or forbidden choice, in the excess 
or perversion, of the natural propensity of our na- 
tures. Lawless ambition is the excess of a desire 
to distinguish ourselves, which, under certain res- 
trictions, is a blameless incentive to useful actions. 
19* 



222 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS 

As every species of debauchery consists in the irre> 
gular indulgence of the appetites, in themselves na- 
tural an4 innocent, thus are the most disorderly and 
malevolent affections the abuse of some affections, 
which in certain circumstances, may be allowable 
and beneficial. Envy is anger, unjust, and pettish, 
at the good fortune of another, mixed with a very 
false idea of our superior deserts. Cruelty is the 
excess of a severity, which in itself may be justifi- 
able ; and Malice the most inveterate, is the cruelty 
of envy, attempting by words and actions to destroy 
or diminish the good we cannot participate. 

Thus then it appears, that character depends 
upon the prevalent use or abuse of certain propen- 
sities or affections of our nature. Those who select 
and cultivate the most beneficial are the best of 
characters ; those, who are habituated to the most 
injurious, are the worst. 



SECTION IV, 



INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS ON 
HAPPINESS, 



Though the desire of Good is in reality the effi- 
cient cause of every passion, emotion, and affection, 
yet the immediate effects of each on our sensations, 
are correspondent to its own specific nature. To 
be under the influence of some, is productive of 
temporary well-being ; while others are comfortless, 
irksome, or productive of a great degree of wretch- 
edness. 

Love considered as an affection placed upon a 
deserving object, and recompensed with reciprocal 
affection, Joy, Ecstasy, Complacency, Satisfaction, 
Contentment, lively Hope, these are decidedly the 
sources of present enjoyment. The social affec- 
tions of Benevolence, Sympathy, Compassion, and 



ON HAPPINESS. 223 

Mercy, are also other ingredients of happiness, 
from a less selfish and more refined source than 
the preceding. A steady, uniform disposition mani- 
fested by incessant endeavours to promote happi- 
ness, is invariably rewarded with a large portion of 
it. Benevolence places the mind at a remote dis- 
tance from little jealousies and envyings : it tempers 
the irritative nature of anger, and teaches compas- 
sion to subdue it. Through Benevolence, the good 
enjoyed by another becomes our own, without a 
robbery or privation. This divine principle harmo- 
nizes the mind with every thing around, and feels 
itself pleasingly connected with every living being. 
It generates, communicates, and enjoys happiness. 
When benevolence manifests itself by sympathy, 
compassion, and mercy, some portion of uneasi- 
ness, it is acknowledged, accompanies the sensation 
congenial to its nature : but the exercise of these af- 
fections communicates a phasing pain. The de- 
gree of uneasiness is more than recompensed, by 
the satisfaction enjoyed from the relief of distress ; 
and even from the consciousness of a disposition to 
relieve. There is often a luxury in sympathetic 
sorrow ; and the tear shed over distress becomes a 
pearl of inestimable price. Every species of Be- 
nevolence possesses the quality which our great 
dramatic Poet has ascribed to a merciful disposi- 
tion. 

The quality of Mercy's not restrain'd: 
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven, 
Upon the land beneath. It is twice blessed ; 
It blesses him that givts, and him that takes. 

Shakspeabe. 

The mildest of the affections which belong to the 
family of Love, diffuse a pleasurable tranquillity 
over the mind. They constitute the healthy state 
of the soul, united with a consciousness of this 
health. The more lively affections invigorate the 
frame, exciting a delectable vivacity ; and the im- 



224 INFLUENCE OP THE PASSIONS 

petuous emotions, termed ecstasies and transports^ 
infuse a wild tumultuous pleasured Immoderation 
leaves the helm ; the animal spirits uncontrolled, 
violently agitate the corporeal frame, and confound 
the mental faculties in a pleasing delirium. 

In some of these kindly emotions, circumstances 
and situations, in themselves displeasing, are ren- 
dered capable of communicating pleasure. Thus 
in the sudden possession of good conferred by a su- 
perior, Gratitude, though it is so closely connected 
with the idea of our own wants, and the dependency 
of our state, rises above these natural causes of de- 
pressed spirits. The attention is arrested by the 
Good received, and the heart glows with Affection 
towards the benefactor ; which is a more pleasing 
sensation than Independency itself could ensure. 
Thus in the contemplation of the unrivalled excel- 
lencies possessed by another, lively enjoyment be- 
comes intimately connected with the deepest sense 
of inferiority : as in the emotions of admiration, re- 
verence, and awe. Nor is Humility, notwithstand- 
ing its abject appearance, devoid of Dignity. It is 
accompanied with a strong Affection for excellen- 
cies, while it laments that it cannot attain them: 
and a conscious wish, to subdue remaining defects, 
inspires more Satisfaction than the self-sufficiency of 
arrogance can boast. Even Desire itself, which is 
an eager longing for gratification, — if it be not in- 
temperate, — if it be united with hope, — if it be not 
prolonged to the weariness of patience, is cherished 
with a great degree of pleasure. The expectancy 
of enjoyment more than counterpoises the pain 
created by suspense. 

Another set of emotions and affections are of the 
unquiet and irritating class ; as the whole family of 
Anger. The exciting objects are unwelcome to the 
mind which contemplates them, and the sensations 
they produce are turbulent and painful. It is true, 
some degree of satisfaction may be inspired by the 
vivid idea entertained, at the instant, of the justice 



ON HAPPINESS. 225 

of our cause, as also by the gratification, or even the 
resolution to gratify, the newly-created desire of 
revenge, or by the conscious superiority which ac- 
companies contempt and disdain ; but these are 
purchased at the expense of the infinitely superior 
pleasures, infused by the opposite spirit of love, 
complacency, and benevolence. The mind finds 
itself in bondage to its emotions, and feels that it is 
driven by their impetuosity, not only to the greatest 
distance from the nobler sources of enjoyment, but 
to the verge of misery itself. Danger is appre- 
hended from the excess of passion, while it is in- 
dulged ; and the subject himself trembles, lest it 
should be productive of irreparable evil, repentance, 
and remorse. 

Sorrow and Grief, though they are certainly in 
the class of the most unpleasant affections, yet they 
have something so fascinating in them, that the mind 
under their influence, is arrested and absorbed, as it 
were, in the contemplation of their cause. The 
good of which we are deprived is now appreciated, 
perhaps, for the first time, according to its value ; 
perhaps beyond its value. This contemplation of 
qualities, which once gave delight, or which were 
fondly expected to give delight, mingles a pleasure 
with the severe pain, which privation or disappoint- 
ment has occasioned. 

Even Penitence and Contrition, when they are 
inspired by ingenuous motives, — when the detesta- 
tion of former conduct proceeds from a conviction 
of its baseness, and sorrow for the injury it has done, 
and not from the apprehension of punishment or 
the shame of detection, even penitence and contri- 
tion are not devoid of pleasure ! The Penitent, in 
the midst of his painful self-condemnation, feels a 
latent satisfaction in the disposition and resolution 
to return to the paths of virtue. 

The emotions and affections, of Fear, Dread, 
Horror, Despair, are of the most horrid and tremen* 
clous class. They vary in degrees of wretchedness, 



226 INFLUENCE OF THE PASSIONS 

according to the degrees of their intenseness, 
whether this be increased by temperament, by the 
extreme importance, or by the complicated nature 
of the exciting cause. Excessive Jealousy, Envy, 
Remorse, Despair, Shame arising from the detec- 
tion of guilt, are misery unmixed. They render 
life insufferable, and tempt the despondent and dis- 
tracted mind to venture upon all the horrors of an 
unknown state, rather than support the pangs of its 
present feelings. 

Surprise, Wonder, Astonishment, principally re- 
ceive their complexion from the subjects that in- 
spire them ; and they are introductory to happiness 
or misery, according to the nature of the cause ex- 
citing them. In Surprise particularly, the sudden 
and unexpected arrival of an interesting event, cor- 
respondent with the nature of the affection already 
indulged, will turn hope and joy into ecstasy, dis- 
pleasure into anger, and fear into terror and dis- 
may. 

Thus, in the pleasing emotions, the idea of Good 
necessarily predominates ; and in the painful ones, 
the idea of Evil. Accordingly, those emotions 
which are produced by complicated good, or by the 
union of such causes, as separately possess the 
power of calling forth pleasing emotions and affec* 
tions, contribute most to happiness. In the emo- 
tions of hope, satisfaction, and joy, when personal 
concerns are intimately connected with some com- 
mon interest, and the blessings received have an ex- 
tensive influence, the emotions receive additional 
vigour, and are enjoyed with peculiar suavity. 
Social affections are now blended with self-love. 
The two torrents which so frequently oppose each 
other, fortunately unite and enlarge the stream of 
enjoyment; and the most desirable branch of bene- 
volence, rejoicing with those that rejoice, is super- 
added to the natural pleasure we take in our own 
good. 

Again, Gratitude, unites to the joy inspired by a 



ON HAPPINESS, 227 

benefit received, the pleasure derived frem an affec- 
tionate sense of the obligation, and of love to the 
benefactor ; and if the magnitude of the benefit, or 
the mode of conferring it, be productive of surprise, 
wonder, admiration, the delectable affections of joy, 
gratitude, and love, will, by the operation of these 
rivid passions, be proportionably augmented. 

Were the imagination commanded to paint the 
highest felicity to be enjoyed by created beings, it 
would surely point out the union of the following 
emotions and affections. Ardent Love for an object 
decidedly worthy of our love, chastened with high 
Veneration ; — Astonishment inspired by the contem- 
plation of the number and extent of its excellencies, 
and at the unremitted exertion of these excellencies 
in the diffusion of good ; — Admiration at the wise 
means adapted to the accomplishment of the inte- 
resting purpose ; — Joy and Gratitude for benefits al- 
ready received ; — lively Hope of good incalculable 
in reserve for ourselves, conjointly with others 
whose welfare we ardently desire, accompanied 
with a Consciousness that we also have contributed 
a something to the general mass of felicity, accord- 
ing to the extent of our ability ! These are ingre- 
dients to constitute the perfections of bliss ! Love, 
Joy, Gratitude, Surprise, Admiration, Complacency, 
Hope, and Benevolence unbounded, may thus oc- 
cupy the mind in a transporting variety, or by ex- 
erting their united powers at the same instant, ©o 
rasion inconceivable raptures ! ! ! 



T$0ttm 



TO THE 



PRECEDING TREATISE. 



20 



NOTES 

TO THE 

PRECEDING TREATISE. 



NOTE A. 
After " Whether its influence be of a pleasant or unpleasant nature." Page 18 

This opinion has the support of respectable authorities. Dr. 
Watts remarks, that (: the word properly signifies receiving the 
action of some agent." (See Watts on the Passions.) Mr. Grove 
observes, that " the mind, in certain circumstances, and within 
certain degrees, has no dominion over itself, or the body. It i;- 
in a manner passive, can neither help the agitation of the blood 
and spirits, nor help being itself affected by them." (See Sys. 
of Moral Phil. Vol. 1. Ch. vii.) 

Seneca also thus expresses himself : " Omnes motus qui non 
voluntate nostra fiunt, invicti, et inevitabiles sunt : ut horror fri- 
gida aspersis ; ad quosdam ictus, aspernatio ; ad pejores nuntios 
subriguntur pili ; et ruber ad improba verba suffunditur ; sequi- 
tur vertigo praerupta cernentes. Ista ut ita dicam, palitur magi? 
animus quam facit." (De Ira. L. 2. C. 2.) 

Note B. 

After " Are the most appropriate." Page 21. 

It is acknowledged that these words are frequently used indis- 
criminately, and sometimes without manifest impropriety ; but 
if they cannot be used at nil limes, with equal propriety, there 
must be a specific difference between them. Now it Is observa- 
ble that the word Emotion is not frequently applied to those pas- 
sions in which the external signs are the least violent. We sel- 
dom say that any one is under the emotion of Fear ; because 
abject fear has something oppressive in its nature, and is fre- 
quently silent and motionless. When fear is indicated by violent 
agitations, it acquires the character of terror ; and we feel that 
the phrase emotioris of terror is strictly proper. We never apply 
the epithet to hope, distinctly considered, because, though it be 
lively and animating, it is not accompanied by external signs of 
transport. When these appear they are always ascribed to the 



232 NOTES TO THE 

joy, which is frequently connected with hope ; and we perceive 
a peculiar propriety in the term joyful emotions, because joy is 
so frequently indicated by some eccentric tokens. 

Whoever attends to these circumstances, in addition to the 
principles already advanced, will be surprised at the assertion of 
Lord Kaims, that " an emotion is in its nature quiescent, and 
merely a passive feeling." (Elements of Criticism, 5th Edil. 
Vol. 1. Page 44.) Both the etymology of the word, and almost 
every connexion in which it is used with decided propriety, con- 
fute this strange position. The author was probably led into the 
idea by the very confined view he has taken of the passions, in 
his elegant Essay. He chiefly considers them as connected 
with the fine Arts', and subjects of taste ; and as expressive of 
those agreeable or disagreeable effects which they produce, when 
first presented to our notice. These effects, it is allowed, are 
seldom so violent, in cultivated minds, as to occasion the emo- 
tions which indicate themselves by strong and characteristic- 
marks. 

His Lordship having denied external signs to emotions, has 
transferred them to the passions. But in order to establish his hy- 
pothesis, he is obliged to give a very different definition of the 
passions from any that his predecessors have adopted, or that ei- 
ther etymology or usage will justify. According to his system, 
a passion is compounded of this quiescent emotion, and a desire 
to obtain the object which occasioned it. " An internal motion 
or agitation of the mind,*' says he, " when itpasseth away with- 
out desire, is denominated an emotion; when desire follows, the 
motion or agitation is denominated a passion." Numerous ob- 
jections might be opposed to the position. I shall only observe, 
that, according to this hypothesis, the external signs of the pas- 
sions would be the strongest where desires are the strongest : 
which is directly opposite to what we perceive in the avaricious 
man : — that joy can neither be considered as a passion nor an 
emotion ; because its visible transports would destroy its title to 
the latter, and its being excited, not by desire itself, but by the 
accomplishment of a desire, will exclude it from the former: — 
Nor can we discover what should, at any time, excite those 
transports which are sometimes both visible and tremendous ; for 
emotions being quiescent, and desires not being of themselves 
turbulent, their union, could they possibly exist together, is not 
!fke to produce those corporeal agitations so frequently observa- 
ble ; unless we were to admit a process similar to a chymical fer- 
mentation. But they cannot exist together, and consequently an 
emotion can receive no assistance from desire, by which it may 
be transformed into a passion ; for, according to his own system, 
desire succeeds to emotion. 

His Lordship's embarrassment on this subject, which he in- 
genuously acknowledges, manifestly proceeds from his not hav- 
ing made a fortunate selection of terms, to discriminate existing 
differences. To every simple impression he has given the name 
of an emotion ; and he has applied the term passion exclusively, 
to what is in its own nature an affection ; and whenever it is con- 
sidered as a Passion, it is merely in its secondary sense ; express- 
ing the captivating influence of any particular object of desire 



PRECEDING TREATISE. 233 

or of an irresistible attachment to it. By admitting these few 
alterations, -what he has written on the subject may be read with 
much edification and pleasure. 



Note C. 



After " It would be to annihilate misery." Page 27. 

Dr. Hartley, in establishing the doctrine of vibrations ; and 
the hypothesis of associated ideas founded upon it, asserts, that 
" the desire of happiness, and aversion to misery, are not insepa- 
rable from and essential to all intelligent natures." 

Without venturing to oppose, unnecessarily, so cautious and 
conclusive a reasoner, I shall just observe, that the above asser- 
tion is expressed in much stronger language, than the principles 
which he attempts to enforce absolutely require. It is acknow- 
ledged that his theory opposes the existence of innate ideas ; 
and whoever admits the theory must allow, that there can be no 
desire after happiness, or fear of misery, before we have been 
made acquainted, some way or other, with their natures. There- 
fore, when he asserts that the desire of happiness, and aversion 
of misery, are hot inseparable from, and essential to, all intelli- 
gent natures, he can only mean, that they are not co-existent 
with the power of intelligence, and that they are desires and 
aversions acquired by experience ; not that the reflective mind 
can, at any time, be totally indifferent about happiness and mise- 
ry. For by whatever method we may have obtained a know- 
ledge of either, the position remains indubitable, that no one 
ever tasted of happiness,, or possessed the smallest degree of 
ease or pleasure, without contracting an affection for them ; or 
experienced misery and uneasiness, without contracting a ha- 
tred towards them. 



Note D. 

After "The individual stock of each would render happiness universal." Page 30- 

It would not only be a severe, but an absurd requisition, to 
expect that mankind should universally be more attentive to the 
welfare of others than to their own. This would be to love our 
neighbours better than ourselves, without ascribing to them any 
of the qualities requisite to attract our love. Nor would this 
mode of exercising benevolence be so productive of good as the 
present constitution of our nature, as it would be impossible to 
obtain an equal knowledge of their wants and desires ; nor 
wouid it be so favourable to the cause of benevolence as has 
been imagined. No mind, truly generous, or deserving of atten- 
tion, could possibly receive the gift of Well-being entirely at the 
expense of the Donor. Thus, were the selfish principle totally 
extinguished, the reciprocal communication of good would be 
little more than a complimentary exchange. 
20* 



234 NOTES TO THE 

Note E. 
After " Not always in our recollection.'' Page 32. 

Some Authors, of great respectability, have expressed them- 
selves in a manner which conveys ideas very different from those 
we have attempted to establish. Dr. Reid speaks of loving things 
for their own sakes, and considers the class of philosophers who 
suppose that the love of every object may be resolved into its 
utility, to be in an error. Lord Kaims maintains, that some af- 
fections are neither selfish nor social. 

These opinions seem to receive support from the sentiment of 
Cicero, who observes, " Est quiddam quod sua vi nos illiciat ad 
?e ; non emolumento captans aliquo, sed trahens sua dignitate i 
quod genus, virtus, scitntia } Veritas." 

It is so presumptuous to differ from such authorities, that I am 
reluctant to expose myself to the suspicion. Their doctrine is 
expressed in very ambiguous language. It is possible that a pro- 
per investigation of the subject will indicate that it does not, in 
its tenour, oppose the sentiments advanced in the text. If I fail 
in this attempt, it may still appear that it has not confuted them. 

When it is said that we love things for their own sakes, let us 
examine what signification can be attached to the expression. 
We could not possibly love any thing totally void of qualities, 
were it possible for such a thing to exist ; because there would 
be nothing to love. But the things specified by these authors, as 
being attractive by their dignity alone, manifestly possess quali- 
ties of the highest utility : lor their dignity itself consists in the 
superiority of their usefulness. When, therefore, it is alleged 
that such things are loved for their own sakes, the only consistent 
idea we can annex to the phrase must be, that we love them 
from their capacity of producing, in certain circumstances, some 
great and extensive good ; though we should not experience the 
good, or observe the application of this power, in particular in- 
stances, either in ourselves or others. For example, it is as cer- 
tain that virtue, science, truth, are of infinite importance to the 
welfare of the whole intelligent creation, as that they possess 
the powerful attractions ascribed to them by Cicero. A society 
of liars would create greater confusion than that of Babel ; nor 
could it exist for a day. Science dispels pernicious ignorance ; it 
makes us acquainted with the choicest qualities existent ; and 
universal Virtue would be productive of universal happiness. 
Every man, therefore, whose mind is not upon a level with the 
brute creation, and who has perceived, in a single instance, the 
beneficial effects flowing from these excellencies, or the baneful 
consequences engendered by their contraries, must respect them. 
This respect, however, will be founded either upon his own ex- 
perience, or upon his observation of their influence on othere. 
In the first case they are the result of personal love of good ; and 
in the second, of the benevolent principle. For it is very obvi- 
ous that the class of objects, of which it is asserted that they are 
loved for their own sakes, alone attract the attention of the cul- 
tivated mind, or of such as possess a considerable share of natu- 
ral benevolence. 



PRECEDING TREATISE. 2'3. r > 

Innumerable are the proofs that the very capacity of being use- 
ful, will inspire an affection for many things, which are permit- 
ted to remain in a dormant state. The miser loves his gold so in- 
tensely, that he will not part with it in exchange for the choicest 
blessing it is able to purchase. The man of science loves his li- 
brary, though it may contain many hundred volumes which he 
has never consulted. The good housewife delights in the plate 
of porcelain, which is perpetually locked up in her cabinet ; and 
the eastern monarch is watchful over a seraglio infinitely too ex- 
tensive for his enjoyment. 

The above instances point out the sense in which we may be 
said to love any thing for its own sake. These different objects 
are loved, as powers of utility or gratification in reserve, that is, 
we are so constituted that we cannot avoid approving, admiring, 
or loving, whatever possesses in a great degree, either the capa- 
city or the disposition to promote, what we deem to be good for 
us, or what is pleasing to us. 

Note F. 

After " Threaten to endanger our well-being." Page 38. 

Mr. Hume commences his Dissertation on the Passions in the 
following manner : " Some objects produce an agreeable sensa- 
tion, by the original structure of our organs ; and are thence de- 
nominated Good ; as others, from immediate disagreeable sensa- 
tions, acquire the appellation of Evil. Thus moderate warmth 
is agreeable and good ; excessive heat, painful and evil. 

" Some objects again, by being naturally conformable or con- 
trary to passion, excite an agreeable or painful sensation, and are 
thence called good or evil. The punishment of an adversary by 
gratifying revenge, is Good ; the sickness of a companion by af- 
fecting friendship, is evil." 

Will it be necessary to point out to any of my readers the per- 
nicious sophistry of this statement ? Is it not a wanton introduc- 
tion of a chaos, I will not say in morals, but in the nature and 
character of human motives and human conduct ? It gives the 
important appellation of Good, to the greatest opposites, without 
discriminating the specific natures of each : merely because, in 
some circumstances, and in some characters, they may procluce 
pleasing or painful sensations. Thus is moderate warmth placed 
upon a level with sentiments and dispositions, calculated to pro- 
duce the most exalted felicity ; and to the gratification of re- 
venge, is given the same colouring as to the pardon of an injury. 
or alleviating distress ! 

This studied confusion of ideas may, in some connexions, be 
productive of wit. It is always ** such stuff as conundrums are 
made o/," but it is directly opposite to the genius of true philo- 
sophy. 

If my ideas of a conundrum be accurate, it consists in an at- 
tempt to make two things appear closely to resemble each other, 
which are the most opposite in their natures. This is done by di- 
recting the attention to some medium thought or middle term, 
which may, in one sense or other, be applicable to each. For 



236 NOTES TO THE 

example, if it be asked why is a person in the upper part of a 
house committing theft, like a man of the strictest virtue ? The 
answer is, because he is above, doing a bad action. The word 
above being in certain senses applicable to each subject, we are 
surprised and amused at the unexpected points of resemblance. 
Thus again if it be asked, In what does a person, who attempts 
to kill another in a fit of anger, resemble the man who protects his 
life? The answer of Mr. Hume will be, both actions excite 
agreeable sensations, and are therefore Good ! The first conun- 
drum is allowed to be better than the second ; but this will only 
prove that there are degrees of excellence in this kind of writing, 
as well as in every other ; and that it is much better adapted to 
subjects of amusement, than to philosophy. 

Note G. 

After " the passions and affections could not have been excited." Page 40. • 

Perhaps there is no branch of philosophy more difficult, than 
that of distinguishing between real and apparent qualities in ob- 
jects. Since all that we know of qualities is derived from the 
impression made upon us, a previous question presents itself, 
whether our susceptibility of impressions be always accurate, or 
perfectly correspondent with the real nature of the object? Un- 
til this point be settled, our ideas of qualities must be vague and 
indeterminate. Lord Kaims has, in one instance, made the at- 
tempt ; but his observations are so unsatisfactory, and his mode 
of reasoning so inconclusive, that I feel myself much relieved in 
not being obliged to imitate his example. 

In a chapter where he treats of Emotions and Passions as plea- 
sant and painful, agreeable and disagreeable, he attempts to prove 
that agreeable and disagreeable are qualities in the Object per- 
ceived, pleasant, and unpleasant are descriptive of the Emotions 
we feel. The former are perceived as adhering to the object, the 
latter are felt as existing in us. At first view, these distinctions 
appear specious, but, upon critical examination, apprehensions 
may be justly entertained, whether they be not instances of that 
inaccuracy w r hich he considers to be " not at all venial in the 
science of Ethics." 

" Viewing a garden," says he, " I perceive it to be beautiful 
or agreeable ; and I consider the beauty or agreeableness as be- 
longing to the object, or as one of its qualities. When I turn my 
attention from the garden to what passes in my mind, I am con- 
scious of a pleasant emotion, of which the garden is the cause ; 
the pleasure here is felt as a quality, not of the garden, but of 
the emotion produced by it. I give another example. A rotten 
carcase is disagreeable, and raises in the spectator a painful emo- 
tion : the disagreeableness is a quality of the Object; the pain is 
a quality of the Emotion produced by it." (Elements of Criti- 
cism, vol. i. chap. ii. part II.) 

With deference to so respectable an authority, this distinction 
does not appear to be just. Agreeable, according to its etymo- 
logy, manifestly relates to the effects produced upon us, as much 
as the word pleasant. The difference is in degree, not in nature. 



PRECEDING TREATISE. 237 

Agreeable expresses something that appears suitable or corres^ 
pondent with our nature, dispositions, and tastes ; something 
that perfectly agrees with us ; exciting the idea of comfort, end 
inspiring contentment and satisfaction. What is pleasant goes far- 
ther. It excites a sensation within us, more nearly approaching 
to an emotion. That agreeableness cannot be allowed to exist in 
the subject itself, is plain, from the diversity of opinions con- 
cerning it, without the possibility of discovering a standard, by 
which to mark a deviation from the law of nature. Were it re- 
sident in Objects, the effect must be uniform and absolute, in 
every one whose powers of perception are not disordered. But 
this is not the case. Numberless causes conspire to change our 
ideas of the qualities of Objects, and may render some objects 
agreeable or disagreeable, pleasant or unpleasant to the same 
person at different times. To give a familiar instance. Sweet 
things are most agreeable to children ; but when they become 
adults the taste is changed. It is possible that the smoke of to- 
bacco, and the taste of porter may become agreeable to the man. 
who detested them when a child. Can we say, therefore, that 
there is an inherent agreeableness in tobacco which pleases the 
adult, and an inherent disagreeableness which disgusts the in- 
fant ? Or to admit his Lordship's example of a garden. It is ac- 
knowledged that the idea of a garden excites pleasant sensa- 
tions, in most persons. Plenty of the delicate luxuries of na- 
ture, beauty, verdure, variegated flowers, &c. elegant retirement 
from the noise and bustle of the world, crowd in upon the ima- 
gination. But are we agreed in every circumstance respecting 
a garden ? Was not the stiftest formality once deemed an essen- 
tial beauty ? Has not this taste given way to irregular clumps 
and clusters ? Are not thsse of late become the subject of ridi- 
cule, and a style more correspondent with the wild beauties of 
nature preferred ? And when these have been enjoyed for some 
time, a future race may possibly observe that the distinction be- 
tween a garden and a field is not sufficiently marked, and may 
again place their ideas of beauty in that formal regularity, which 
is at present so much despised. 

Note H. 
After " Either taste or address, kc." Page 57. 

Dr. Watts does not seem to have expressed himself with 
sufficient accuracy, when he observes, that " If any object ap- 
pear pleasing and fit to do us good, it raises the love of com- 
placency." These two expressions are not synonymous. Ma- 
ny things may be pleasing to us, from which we apprehend mis- 
chief ; and in these we cannot take complacency. 

Again he says, " Complacency dwells upon its object with de- 
light : We gaze upon a figure, we listen to music, we dwell long 
in a fine garden, we dwell in the company of our friends." All 
these instances contain attributes calculated to inspire compla- 
cency, as ingenuity and taste maybe manifested in the three first, 
and worth moral or mental, may be possessed by the last. Yet 
it may be justly doubted, whether precision of language will 



238 NOTES TO THE 

permit us to apply the word Complacency to these cases, unless 
there be some kind or degree of appropriation. We may ap- 
prove ; we may enjoy great pleasure and delight in inanimate 
objects, when we view them as belonging to strangers : but it 
has never been said of a connoisseur, that he took complacency 
in the Apollo de Belvedere, or in the Venus de Medicis, in Slowe 
Gardens, or the Leasowes of Shenstone, however he may have 
been delighted by these objects. Some kind of relation, however 
slight, appears necessary, to enable even such objects to inspire 
complacency. If we take complacency in garments, or flowers, 
or gardens, it is when they belong either to ourselves or to our 
friend ; or when they manifest our own taste or skill, or that of 
another for whom we are interested. Nor will the most perfect 
Concert excite complacency in the audience at large, though it 
may in the composers, performers, directors, or any of their par- 
ticular acquaintances. 

Note I. 

After " Pride." Page 59. 

The above definition and descriptions of Pride, are founded 
upon the various acceptations of that word in common language, 
and supported by the authority of our best Writers. But Mr. 
Hume, in defiance of each, has given a very different definition 
of pride, which I believe to be totally his own, and ought of con- 
sequence tr possess great internal merit to justify its boldness. 
in opposing those ideas which have hitherto been received uni- 
versally. Let us examine it. 

He defines pride to be a " certain satisfaction in ourselves, on 
account of some accomplishment or possession which we enjoy." 
Again. " The object of pride is self, the cause, some excellence^ 
Again. " Our merit raises pride, and it is essential to pride to 
turn our view on ourselves with complacency and satisfaction/' 
(See Dissertation on the Passions, passim.) 

As Mr. Hume has made no distinction between real and sup- 
posed merit, he necessarily directs our thoughts to absolute me- 
rit ; nor can there, according to this statement, be any place for 
a vitious pride, or an ill-founded confidence in our own superiori- 
ty. This is excluded, by his definition, from the character of 
pride. 

Our Philosopher has also advanced, in another place, that 
" Self satisfaction, in some degree at least, is an advantage which 
equally attends the Fool and the Wise." (On Qualities neces- 
sary to ourselves. § 6.) Now what is the cause of this self-satis- 
faction, in the fool? According to the above position it must be 
Merit. And in the wise man ? Merit. Thus the wise man and 
the fool are made to resemble each other so closely, in the most 
interesting of all desirable qualities, merit, and self-satisfaction, 
that there is no material difference between them. What there 
is, will probably be to the advantage of the fool. As he will be 
much more liable to be pleased with himself, our Author's hypo- 
thesis leads us to suspect that he may possess the most merit. 
Should it be alleged that the above statement is a misrepre-- 



PRECEDING TREATISE. 239 

sentation ; I would answer, that such an allegation can alone be 
supported by explanations which will militate against the senti- 
ments, so repeatedly and assiduously advanced. Recourse must 
be had to a distinction between real and supposed merit. This 
will demonstrate that there must be two species of pride included 
in the definition ; and that these are as opposite to each other as 
light and darkness, knowledge and ignorance ; and, consequent- 
ly, that it is not only very vnphilosophical to comprise the most 
opposite qualities under the same genus, but very ungenerous to 
confound the good principle with the evil one, by giving indis- 
criminately the same appellations to both. 

Note K. 
After "the ambitious passions is a familiar expression." Page 64. 

Dr. Reid places Desires among the animal principles; but he 
distinguishes them " from the Appetites by this, that there is not 
a sensation proper to each, and always accompanying it ; and 
that they are not periodical but constant, not being satiated with 
their object for a time as the appetite? are." He adds, " the de- 
sires I have in view are chiefly these three, the desire of power, 
the desire of esteem, and the desire of knowledge." 

This is not the place to inquire whether the desires, here spe- 
cified, Reserve to be ranked among the animal principles ; but as 
the above description of a particular class of desires, appears to 
oppose the sentiments we have advanced, it demands a few ob- 
servations. 

We may first remark that the distinction made between ap- 
petites and desires is inaccurate, for the appetites are doubtless 
one class of desires ; nor is there a sensual appetite totally sepa- 
rate from the mental affections and desires : if there were, the 
grossest appetites might be indulged without culpability. 

2dly. The doctrine itself is very obscurely expressed. Does 
the doctor mean that one sensation is common to them all I 
Then must the desire of power be similar to that of knowledge. 
If he means that desires are not uneasy sensations, and adduces 
those specified as proofs, we may observe that they are here 
considered in their mildest state, and we are taught to imagine, 
from the description given of them, that this was their perma- 
nent character : whereas it is well known that the desire of 
Power is frequently as rampant as the strongest appetites, de- 
generating into insatiable ambition ; that the desire of Esteem 
may become so excessive as to stir up painful emulation, and 
still more painful envy ; and that the desire of Knowledge is 
frequently so restless as to induce the possessor to forego his 
ease, and encounter dangers and difficulties innumerable in or- 
der to gratify it. 

But although, in their mildest state, they may not equal the 
appetites, they are attended with a degree of uneasiness which 
impels to active endeavours after the desired objects. If no un- 
easy sensation accompanied either, there could be no motive to 
counteract the love of ease and indolence, so natural to man. 
The prospect of success may indeed inspire the pleasure of hope. 



240 NOTES TO THE 

and the benefits promised by each pursuit, may be so powerfully 
anticipated by the imagination, that the pleasing sensations, from 
these adventitious causes, shall greatly preponderate ; but if no 
uneasy sensation were excited, by the comparison of our actual 
situation with that we may possibly attain, our endeavours after 
the attainment could never have been excited. 

The Professor's subsequent observations perfectly correspond 
with these remarks. He says that " the pursuits of Power, of 
Fame, and of Knowledge, require a self-command no less than 
virtue does :" which is an acknowledgment that they are not al- 
ways so pacific as was represented.* And when he observes, 
that " the desire of Esteem and of Knowledge are highly useful 
to society, as well as Power, and at the same time are less dange- 
rous in their excesses,'" he tacitly allows that they are not totally 
exempt. 

In support of another argument, he asserts, that " innumera- 
ble instances occur in life, of men who sacrifice ease, pleasure, 
and every thing else, to the lust of power, of fame, or even of 
knowledge." A demonstration this, that the sensations they 
sometimes excite, are not only uneasy, but ungovernable. 

If, by the expression, " there is not a sensation proper to 
each," we are to understand that one particular sensation is com- 
mon to them all, the proposition is still more extravagant. Our 
sensations, in every species of desire, are as different as the ob- 
jects desired. Nor is there a greater difference between hunger 
and thirst, than there is between the desire of wealth, and the 
desire of power. The desire of knowledge is also distinct from, 
and superior to, both. 

Note L, 
After " Feelings of bumanfy'." rage 68. 

Dr. Reid remarks, that " it seems to be false religion alone, 
which is able to check the tear of compassion." " We are told," 
lie adds, " that in Portugal and Spain, a man condemned to be 
burned as an obstinate heretic, meets with no compassion even 
from the multitude ;" observing, that " they are taught to look 
upon him as the enemy of God, and doomed to hell-fire. But 
should not this very circumstance move compassion ? Surely it 
would if they had not been taught that, in this case, it is a crime 
to show compassion, or even to feel it." (See Essay on Active 
Powers, Page 156.) 

In addition to the motive assigned, we may mention the influ- 
ence of custom, in rendering the heart insensible to the sufferings 
of these devoted objects. I was once passing through Moorfields 
with a young lady aged about nine or ten years, born and edu- 
cated in Portugal, but in the Protestant Faith, and observing a 
large concourse of people assembled round a pile of faggots on 
fire, I expressed a curiosity to know the cause. She very com- 
posedly answered, I suppose that it is nothing more than that they 
are going to burn a jew. Fortunately it was no other than roasting 

* This expression is also inaccurate, since it is the province of virtue to correct 
these as well as every other desire, when they are in danger of becomiflg inordinate. 



PRECEDING TREATISE. 241 

an ox, upon some joyful occasion. What rendered this singula- 
rity the more striking, was the natural mildness and compassion 
of the young person's disposition. 

Another instance of the influence of perverted principles, oc- 
eurs to my remembrance in the conduct of a pious Mother, to- 
wards a most excellent and dutiful Son ; who, from a principle of 
conscience, in opposition to his interest, renounced the religious 
system in which he had been educated, for another, which he 
deemed more consonant to truth. She told him that " she found 
it her duty, however severe the struggle, to alienate her affec- 
tions from him, now he had rendered himself an enemy to liod, 
by embracing such erroneous sentiments " \<y friend added, 
that she was completely successful in these pious endeavours ; 
and that the duty she enjoined upon herself, was scrupulously 
performed during the remainder of her days. 

Note M. 

After " past, present, and future." Page 70. 

It is singular, with what precision common language marks the 
difference between to wish and to desire, according to our power 
to obtain the object of our wishes, or our influence over the 
means. Thus we never say to any one, I desire you to be well ; 
but I wish you well ; because, generally speaking, we have no 
influence over another's health ; but a sick man not only wishes 
but desires to be well, because he possesses the power of applying 
the means ; and if he rejects the means, we conclude that he 
does not desire to be well. If we are solicitous that some kind 
office should be performed by any one, we may either wish or 
desire, according to our claims upon his aid. As we may some- 
times desire where we cannot command, thus we may with, where 
it w T ould be presumptuous to desire : and sometimes we manifest 
our desires by expressing our wishes, from a principle of delica- 
cy, leaving it to the party, from whom we expect the kind office, 
to increase the obligation by conforming to our wish, rather than 
complying with our desires. I hese distinctions being founded 
in nature, are common to every language. 

Note N. 

After " to impede our progress." Page 71. 

This seems to be the genuine sense of the substantive Humili- 
ty. But its verb, and participles, are not equally confined in their 
significations. I hey relate to states of debasement, in which the 
spirits are peculiarly depressed, and the mind deeply chagrined 
and mortified, but to which the term humility has never yet been 
applied. There are situations, in which persons may feel them- 
selves very much humbled, and they may be exposed tomany hu- 
miliating circumstances, without their being possessed of the 
disposition denoted by humility. Such expressions never relate 
to the prevailing habit of the mind, but to certain incidents which 
check pride, vanity, ambition, emulation ; or deprive us of the 
reputation we had enjoyed. They all relate to some degree of 
21 



242 NOTES TO THE 

elevation, to which the mind had in vain aspired, and has felt 
mortified by the disappointment ; or to some particular state from 
which the subject has fallen, and in consequence of which he suf- 
fers a dtgraaation. He may thus be in a state of hvmiliation t 
without being in a state of humility. This word refers alone to 
menial excellence, either intellectual or moral ; concerning 
which, the subject himself contains painful apprehensions, that 
he is or shall remain deficient. The adjective humble has the 
same signification. When we say of a person that he has an hu m- 
blt mind, we mean that he is modest, unassuming, diffident of 
himself. These distinctions are very obvious, and though they 
may indicate the caprices of language, they are nevertheless 
highly important ; for they serve to discriminate things which 
differ very essentially in their natures. The hun.ble mind is nei- 
ther mean nor abject, which may be the case with the proud, 
who, by being detected in his baseness, or disappointed in his 
vain presumptuous hopes, may be Humbled to the dust. To the 
man who is clothed with humility, may possibly belong all those 
excellencies which Mr. Hume has ascribed to pride. He may in 
reality possess more merit than he dares to imagine. The dis- 
position is inspired by the contemplation of excellencies which 
he loves, and which he almost despairs to obtain. How differ- 
ent is this from the humiliation any one may suffer, from disap- 
pointed ambition, from a perception of involuntary blemishes, 
and accidental defects, from the mortification that self-love may 
experience, by being defective in beauty, elegance, or wealth, or 
laden with corporeal infirmities ! All of which Mr. Hume has 
arbitrarily chosen to comprehend under Humility. For example. 
" If beauty or deformity belong to our ov\n face, shape, or per- 
son, this pleasure or uneasiness is converted into pride or humili- 
ty. — Pride and humility have the qualities of our -mind and body, 
that is, of self, for their natural and more immediate causes — Bo- 
dily pain and sickness are in themselves proper causes of humility. 
Concerning all other bodily accomplishments, we may observe 
in general, that whatever in ourselves is either useful, beautiful, 
or surprising, is an object of pride, and the contrary of humility-* 
Mr. Hume must have known that whimsical deviations from 
etymology, constitute an essential part of the idioms of a lan- 
guage ; which render it not only so difficult to be acquired, but 
occasion ludicrous effects in the attempt. Would he not have 
been the first to smile at the mistakes of a foreigner, who should 
suppose that all persons, labouring every day at their particular 
occupations, were equally Day- Labourers? that to possess an ele- 
gant or lively fancy, was to be very fanciful ? — that a man was 
insane, because he had Hi health ? — and that every child of nature, 
was a natural child? — But are these blunders more inconsistent 
with the idioms of our language, which custom has universally 
established, than the assertion that bodily pain or sickness are in 
themselves proper causes of Humility ? or placing " the Epilep- 
sy" " the Itch" " the Kings Evil" in the catalogue ? (See Dis- 
sertations on the Passions passim.) 

It is easy to collect, from the above passages and from the amia- 
ble character he has given of Pride, as remarked in a preceding 
note, that Mr. Hume " delighted to exalt the proud, and give dis* 



PRECEDING TREATISE. 243 

grace to the humble" Had it been his province to translate the 
Bible, how would he have rendered the following passages ? 

Every one proud in heart, is an abomination to the Lord. An 
high look and a proud heart, is sin. He (hat is of a proud heart 
stirreth up strife. Pride was not made for man, fyc. fyc. fyc. 

Before honour is humility. By humility and the fear of the 
Lord, are riches, honour, and life. ' God giveth grace to the hum- 
ble, fye. fyc. &rc 

It is not intended by these quotations, to confute his notions 
by divine authority ; but by that of common phraseology. They 
indicate what were the ideas universally annexed to the terms 
Pride and Humility, at the period when this book was translated ; 
and these continue precisely the same every time such passages 
are read, either in public or private. To the universal usage of 
expressions every author must conform, who means to be intel- 
ligible. Nor is the misrepresentation of facts more injurious to 
the credit of an historian, than the perversion of language to that 
of a philosopher. 

The singularity of Mr. Hume in his definitions of both these 
words will appear still more assuming, when we consider that it 
opposes the phraseology, not only of the English language, but 
of most, perhaps all, the European languages, which always em- 
ploy an appropriate word, to distinguish that amiable conscious- 
ness, or apprehension of inferiority in mental excellence, from 
other painful imperfections ; and that word is perfectly syno- 
nymous to the explanation we have given Gf humility 



Note 0. 



After " dread of their arrival." Page 8 1 . 

The Author once attended a prisoner of some distinction in 
one of the prisons of the metropolis, ill of a typhus fever ; whose 
apartments were gloomy in the extreme, and surrounded with 
horrors : yet this prisoner assured him afterwards, that, upon his 
release, he quitted them Avith a degree of reluctance. Custom 
had reconciled him to the twilight, admitted through the thick- 
barred grate, to the filthy spots and patches of his plastered walls, 
to the hardness of his bed, and even to confinement. He had 
his books, was visited by his friends, and was greatly amused and 
interested in the anecdotes of the place. 

An officer of the municipality at Leyden also informed the 
Author of an instance, which marks yet more strongly the force 
of habit. A poor woman who had for some misdemeanour been 
sentenced to confinement for a certain number of years, upon 
the expiration of the term, immediately applied to him for re- 
admission. She urged that all her worldly comforts were fled ; 
and her only wish Avas to be indulged in those imparted by habit. 
She moreoA'er threatened, that, if this could not be granted as a 
favour, she would commit some offence Avhich might give her 
a title to be re-instated in the accustomed lodgings. 



244 NOTES TO THE 

Note P. 

After « may possibly follow." Page 81. 

As these distinctions may appear too refined to some of my 
Readers, it will be proper to show that they actually exist ; and 
that there are situations, in which a discrimination is both ob- 
vious and necessary. Take the following instances. When 
a young and inexperienced soldier is first ordered to march to 
battle, his legs will tremble under him, and the presaging 
colour of death will be in his face, notwithstanding his strong- 
est resolutions, aided by the power of drums and trumpets, 
and the apparent gayety of his companions. These mark his Fear. 
Should he, during the engagement, meet with a single foe, and 
be provoked to single combat, from which he cannot possibly or 
honourably escape, the emotion of Terror will subdue the listless- 
ness of fear, and arouse every power of action. If the army to 
which he belongs should experience a total defeat, the province, 
whose safety might depend upon its success, will be thrown into 
the utmost Consternation ; because this commencement of evil 
may be productive of horrors, which the liveliest imagination 
cannot fully represent : and it was the apprehension of a possible 
defeat, with its consequences, that had inspired their minds with 
Dread, long before the engagement took place. 

These ideas are in themselves very distinct, and although some 
of the terms used to express them may be used indiscriminately, 
where nice precision is not so requisite, yet the arrangement given 
them evidently shows the place destined for each. Thus we 
may say that the young soldier dreads to go into battle, as he is 
marching forward ; but strictly speaking, this dread may have 
been indulged immediately after he had enlisted, when the object 
of Fear was remote ; it will be increased into that passion as he 
approaches the enemy. 



Note Q. 



After B though a degree of hope is still indulged." Page 82. 

The embarrassed and fluctuating state of the mind, under the in- 
fluence of doubt, has seduced Mr. Hume into a singular hypothe- 
sis, which not only opposes the universal opinion of mankind, 
but confounds the future with the present and the past. Could he 
establish his hypothesis, it would follow that the mind is first op- 
pressed with grief concerning a particular object, and then torn 
with fear and anxiety concerning its an-ival; for he makes grief 
to be the parent of fear, instead of considering the accomplish- 
ment of fearful apprehensions as a cause of grief. 

" Suppose," says he, " that the Object concerning which we 
are doubtful, produces either desire or aversion; it is evident, 
that according as the mind turns. itself to one side or the other, it 
must feel a momentary impression of joy or sorrow. An object. 



PRECEDING TREATISE. 245 

whose existence we desire, gives satisfaction, when we think of 
those causes which produce it; and for the same reason excites 
grief or uneasiness, from the opposite consideration So that as 
the understanding, in probable questions, is divided between the 
contrary points of view, the heart must in the same manner be di- 
vided between opposite emotions. — According as the probability 
inclines to good or evil, the passion of grief or joy predominates 
in the composition ; and these passions being intermingled, by 
means of the contrary views of the imagination, produce by the 
union, the passions of hope and fear. Again : 

" The passions of fear and hope may arise, when the chances 
are equal on both sides, and no superiority can be discovered, in 
one above the other. Nay, in this situation the passions are ra- 
ther the strongest ; as the mind has then the least foundation to 
rest upon, and is tost in the greatest uncertainty. Throw in a SU' 
perior degree of probability to the side of grief, you immediately set 
that passion diffuse itself over the composition and tincture it into 
fear. Increase the probability, by that means the grief, the fear 
prevails still more and more ; till at last it runs insensibly, as the 
joy continually diminishes into pure grief. After you have 
brought it to this situation, diminish the grief, by a contrary ope- 
ration to that which increased it, to wit, by diminishing the pro* 
bability on the melancholy side ; and you will see the passion 
-cheer every moment, till it changes insensibly into hope ; which 
again runs by slow degrees into joy, as you increase the part of 
the composition by the increase of the probability." He adds, 
" Are not these as plain proofs that the passions of fear and hope 
are mixtures of grief and joy, as in optics it is a proof, that a co- 
loured ray of the sun, passing through a prism, is a composition of 
two others, when, as you diminish or increase the quantity of 
either, you find it prevail proportionably more or less in the com- 
position." (See Dissertation on the Passions, Sect. I.) 

The mistake which runs through the whole of this laboured ar- 
gument, manifestly arises from Mr. Hume's not having sufficient- 
ly attended to the complication which exists in an uncertain and 
embarrassed state of mind. The object both of hope and fear 
must, according to his own hypothesis, be future, or problemati- 
cal, otherwise no uncertainty concerning it could have place. 
It cannot, therefore, in itself be the cause either of grief or joy. 
but, as we usually express the particular state of mind, of hope or 
fear. In the observation made by Mr. Hume, that " an object 
whose existence we desire gives satisfaction, whenever we think 
of those causes which produce it," his own ideas are manifestly en- 
tangled in the inaccuracy of the statement. It cannot possibly 
be the object we desire that gives the satisfaction he mentions, for 
then the desire would be accomplished; but it is thinking of those 
causes, which produce, or are calculated to produce it. Thus has 
he inadvertently ascribed an influence to the Object, primarily 
and solely, which ought to be ascribed simply to the state of pur 
minds concerning it. The object itself, instead of giving thi3 sa- 
tisfaction, will remain the subject of our hopes and fears, as long 
as we remain in a state of uncertainty concerning it. When we 
advert to the probabilities of its existence, the mind may derive 
21* 



246 NOTES TO THE 

both hope and joy, from the predominant influence of these pro- 
babilities upon us. and when improbabilities gain an ascendant in- 
fluence, our fear will prevail, and this will be accompanied with 
a certain degree of grief, at the disappointment of the hopes we 
had indulged. Thus by being agitated by the " pro and con" of 
probabilities and improbabilities, we feel a pleasing expectation 
at one moment, and a painful reverse at another. Here are of 
consequence two temporary sensations, alternately excited res- 
pecting this desired object ; but they are immediately excited 
by the detached evidences on the side of a happy or an unhappy 
issue. Without hope we should sink into the extreme of fearj 
without fear, our joy would be complete : and when the grand 
result shall be known, these temporary sensations will cease, and 
the mind will be under the influence of unmixed joy or grief, ac- 
cording to the event. The joy and grief accompanying hope and 
fear, therefore, retain their own characteristic natures, without 
any transmutation having taken place. After we have indulged 
hopes, by contemplating the promising side of the question, we 
are grieved and, chagrined at the disappointment of these hopes. 
as often as improbabilities alarm our fears. On the contrary, 
when probabilities appear strongly in favour of what we ardent!} 
. desire, we rejoice that our hopes are encouraged. 

Thus the passions of fear and hope are not mixtures of grief and 
joy, in the same manner as a coloured ray of the sun passing 
through a prism, is a composition of two others; but they are 
all distinct passions, and have their own distinct causes of excite- 
ment. Hope and fear respect the grand issue ; grief and joy. 
the encouragements or discouragements which may alternately 
present themselves respecting it. 

Note R. 
After "our understanding's cannot fully reach and comprehend." Page 110. 

From Mr. Grove it was natural to expect precision ; and, al- 
though this is manifest in most parts of his Treatise on the Pas- 
sions, yet in his description of Admiration, he has not only de- 
viated from the best authorities, but also from himself. 

That admiration is not excited by novelty alone is plain, be- 
cause there are many novelties which no one can admire ; such 
as are indifferent, insipid, or displeasing. That it cannot be syno- 
nymous with svrprise, is plain, because were we to tell any one 
that we were surprised at his excellencies, he would probably be 
surprised at our ill manners. Nor is it the same with wonder ; 
for when a lover admires the charms of his mistress, it is a diffe- 
rent sensation from wondering that she possesses them. 

But that the term Admiration, cannot be confined to the im- 
pressions which simple novelty is able to make, is obvious from 
the subsequent remarks of Mr. Grove, and the more pertinent 
phraseology employed in other parts of his works. He acknow- 
ledges that greatness or excellency is the most general and most 
propef object of admiration. But neither of these is necessarily 
novel. He further observes, that "admiration, according te the 



PRECEDING TREATISE. 247 

different character of its object is called esteem or contempt." But 
his definition has confined our ideas to the simple character of 
novelty ; nor can admiration be applied to opposite characters, 
without a destruction of the simplicity he ascribes to it ; and I 
may add without exciting a degree of surprise at the versatility 
of its nature. He has also remarked, that even littleness may ex- 
cite admiration ; but he allows that the works of nature or art, 
which are of an unusual smallness, are admired, not so much for 
their smallness, as for the greatness of the wisdom and skill con- 
spicuous in them. For " we can behold a particle of mere undi- 
versified matter," says he, " though incomparably smaller, with- 
out such wonder." In another passage, speaking of the advanta- 
ges of sleep, he says, " we shall discern one reason more to ad- 
mire the wisdom of the Creator, in appointing so great a portion of 
our time for sleep." 

^ Thus it appears that Mr. Grove feels the necessity of opposing 
his own definition ; and also the peculiar propriety of applying 
the term to indubitable marks of excellency. 

The extreme confusion and contrarieties, which run through 
the chapter from whence the above extracts are made, proceed 
from his considering admiration as synonymous with surprise; 
and they fully indicate the great importance of affixing distinct 
ideas to each expression. Every author admits that the terms to 
admire, admiration, admirable, may always be applied to some 
kind of excellency, without the shadow of an impropriety; and 
the above observations manifest that they cannot, at all times, be 
used synonymously with either surprise or wonder. This circum- 
stance fully indicates their proper place in the accurate arrange- 
ment of our ideas. 

Note S. 
After " or which has a preponderancy of excellence." Page 161. 

To enter deeply into this delicate subject, would not be con- 
sistent with my plan, but the following queries are proposed to 
those who are more disposed. Since the Female Sex complain 
with apparent anguish of heart, that men have taken the lead in 
directing the wheels of government, in the establishment of the 
arts, and prosecution of the sciences, by usurpation, how came 
they to be such general, and extensive usurpers, without pos- 
sessing a superiority of correspondent qualifications? — Can any 
otber example be produced of predilections being rendered so 
universal and so permanent, by circumstances merely inciden- 
tal ? — Again, excepting we have recourse to the constitution of 
nature, who can explain the reason why each sex should regard 
the qualities in the opposite sex, most similar to its own, with 
such marks of disgust or contempt ; and delight in qualities di- 
rectly opposite ? This is contrary to all the laws of the social 
affections in every other instance ; for similarity of dispositions 
and manners is considered, in every other case, as the founda- 
tion of love, and the cement of affection and friendship. 

May we not safely assert that there is. generally speaking, an 



248 KOTES TO THE 

original diversity in tasles and dispositions liable however to some 
exceptions ? If this be admitted, a correspondent diversity of 
pursuits will naturally follow. We may also subjoin that these 
tastes and dispositions are in most instances, remarkably corres- 
pondent with the corporeal powers of obtaining or accomplish- 
ing their objects. 

Note T. 

After " by a cautious manner of communicating the tidings." Page 200. 

* Historians present us with many instances of fatal effects, 
from the excess of joy ; but it plainly appears from their narra- 
tives, that the subjects were, at the instant preceding, under the 
pressure of extreme anguish of mind. 

Pliny informs us that Chilo, the Lacedemonian, died upon hear- 
ing that his son had gained a prize in the Olympic Games. "Cum 
victore filio Olympise expirasset gaudio." We may consider the 
excess of joy in this case, as an indication of his previous solici- 
tude concerning the issue. (Plin. Maj. Llb. vii. Sect. 7.) But 
the following instances are more express. 

Valerius Maximus tells us that Sophocles the tragic writer, in 
a contest of honour, died in consequence of a decision being 
pronounced in his favour. " Sophocles ultima? jam senectutis, 
cum in certamine tragaediam dixisset, ancipiti sententiarum 
eventu diu solicitus, aliquando tamen una sententia victor, cau- 
sam mortis gaudium habuit." (Val. Max. Lib. ix. Cap. 12.) 

Aulius Gellius mentions a remarkable instance of what may be 
termed, accumulated joy, in Diagoras, whose three sons were 
crowned in the same day as victors ; the one as a pugilist, the 
other as a wrestler, and the third in both capacities. " Diagoras, 
tres filios habuit, unum pugilem, alterum luctorem, tertium Pan- 
crastiasten ; eosque omnes vidit vincere coronarique eodem 
Olympian die ; et cum coronis suis in caput patris positis suavia- 
rentur; cumque populus gratulabundus flores undique in eum 
jaceret, ibi in stadio, inspectante populo, in osculis atque in ma- 
nibus filiorum animam etilavit." (Aul. Gell. noct. Attic. Lib. III. 
Cap. 15.) 

Livy also mentions the instance of an aged Matron, who while 
she was in the depth of distress, from the tidings of her son's 
having been slain in battle, died in his arms in the excess of joy 
upon his safe return. (Liv. Lib. xxn. Cap. 7.) 

Not to enumerate more instances ; we are told by the Italian 
historian Guicciardini, that Leo the Tenth died of a fever, occa- 
sioned by the agitation of his spirits, on his receiving the joyful 
news of the capture of Milan, concerning which he had enter- 
tained much anxiety. (Istoria de Guicciardini, Lib. xiv.) 

In all these instances the previous state of mind, with its pa- 
thological effects upon the body, made the impulse of joy the 
stronger, and contributed to render it fatal. 



PRECEDING TREATISE. 249 

Note U. 
After « will contribute to explain the rest." Page 208. 

Dr. Haygarth, in bis late Publication on the Imagination as a 
Causey and as a Cure of the Disorders of the Body, bas presented 
us with many curious and interesting facts relative to its influence ; 
to which I beg leave to refer the Reader. Such incontestible 
proofs of the power of the imagination in medical cases, may 
vindicate some of the strenuous advocates for Animal Magnetism, 
from the charge of intentional fraud, brought against them by the 
totally incredulous; while they demonstrate the absurdity of all 
their theories. 

I have, in the test, attributed the power of the imagination to 
produce certain changes in the corporeal system, to the Passions 
or stroDg Affections, which in such cases always accompany it ; 
and the experiments made by Dr. Haygarth and his medical 
friends, abundantly corroborate the sentiment. In some of the 
Patients, the salutary influence of hope, and afterwards of joy, was 
evidently very great : in others, the mind was obviously in a slate 
of surprise and astonishment, at the mysterious powers supposed 
to be seated in the instruments ; — in others, it was agitated by al- 
ternate hopes and fears; — and in others, it was under the strong 
impressions of terror. The directions given to the Tractors serv- 
ed to point out as it were, the influence of this pre-disposition of 
mind to the parts particularly affected by a law not more inexpli- 
cable, though more uncommon, than the operation of the will in 
producing voluntary motion. Nor is tho process dissimilar to that 
of conveying the electric fluid to various parts of the body, as 
practised in medical electricity. Since every passion is frequent- 
ly excited by the Imagination alone, without any real or just 
cause, and since these passions are in their appearances and ef- 
fects, perfectly the same as those produced by realities, the medi- 
cal influence of the Imagination is obviously reduced to the same 
principle. The remaining difficulties therefore, attending the sub- 
ject, are not greater than those which belong to the influence of 
the passions in general. When it shall be explained in what man- 
ner each Passion instantaneously produces its own specific change, 
whether it be of an exhilarating, irritating, depressive, or languid 
nature, we shall be able to explain the medical Power of the Ima- 
gination, which is able to excite passions and affections, from ideal 
causes. 

Note W. 

After " where the sole object is to establish indisputable facts." Page 209. 

The Section to which this Note refers is an abridged translation 
of some parts of the Author's Inaugural Dissertation, De Animi 
palhamatum vi, et modo agendi in inducendis et curandis Mortis ; 
published at Leyden in the year 1767. In which his professed ob- 
ject was to theorize ; and by adducing numerous proofs of the in- 
fluence of the passions, both in inducing and removing disorders, 
to demonstrate the fallacy of the Boerhaavian system, which at- 



£50 NOTES TO THE 

tributes the proximate causes of diseases to certain changes in the 
fluids. He attempted in that Dissertation to explain the modus, 
operandi of the passions and affections, upon principles equally 
adapted to the influence of every other cause of morbid or salu- 
tary change, It was his intention to have considered the subject 
more amply ; and to have presented it to the world in another 
form ; but in the earlier part of life be was deprived of the requi- 
site leisure ; and in subsequent years the gradual rejection of the 
Boerhaavian doctrine, and the very learned dissertation of Dr. 
Falconer on the same subject, fo which the Fothergillian Medal 
was adjudged, conspired to render the execution of his design the 
less necessary. The Reader will find in the Doctor's Treatise, nu- 
merous instances given, illustrative of the doctrine and principles 
now advanced, ar»d such authorities quoted as will remove every 
doubt. 

See also Sir George Baker's Observations, in the Medical 
Transactions. T. in. xi. 

Note X. 

After a the other compounds partake of mixed effects." Page 215, 

These observations on the influence of the passions and affections 
upon thought and language, united with those repeatedly advanced 
on the power of sympathy, point out to us the reason of an axiom 
universally admitted, that the orator must feel his subject to insure 
his power over the feeling of others. As the warm feelings of a 
mind duly cultivated, will always suggest a train of ideas and ex- 
pressions, correspondent with its peculiar state, thus is some de- 
gree of feeling highly necessary for a successful imitation. If the 
rhetorician or orator be totally destitute of sensibility, there will 
be such an artifice in bis style and manner, as can alone deceive 
those who are ignorant that artifice exists. It is, however, ac- 
knowledged, that by constant practice, or in other words, by being 
hackneyed in their profession, both language and manner maybe- 
come the result of habit, and may be employed with effect, when 
the Feelings which gave them their original energy are obtunded. 
Veteran actors have been known to imitate various emotions, in 
a just and forcible manner, long after they had lost their sensibility. 
The retained Counsellor has been known to imitate that pathos in 
a bad cause, which a good cause alone could have at first inspired : 
and the corrupt Senator may, in his degenerate state, counterfeit 
all that zeal and energy, which were genuine at the commencement 
of his political career. But so true is nature to itself, that it abso- 
lutely demands the passions and emotions to be perfectly repre- 
sented. Defect diffuses languor, excess produces disgust. The 
eloquence dictated by an unfeeling heart, mistakes bombast for 
sublimity, rant for strong feelings, the cant and whine of a men- 
dicant for the pathetic. It confounds or misapplies every trope 
and figure which it has collected from systems of rhetoric. It is 
loquacious where it ought to be concise ; amuses itself with draw- 
in? of pictures and gathering of flowers, when it should have been 
borne down with a torrent of rapid thought and diction. In a 
word, it presents us with every indication that the author has been 
merely employing his head, and playing with his imagination^ 



PRECEDING TREATISE. 251 

without making any attempts to warm bis own heart. It is, there- 
fore impossible that h<- should succeed in warming the hearts of 
others. He may excite the admiration of some, the contempt of 
many, but the genuine feelings of none. 

False eloquence, like the prismatic glass, 
Its gaudy colours spreads on every place : 
The face of nature we no _ more survey ; 
All glares alike without distinction gay. 

POFE, 



¥HE END. 



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